


Wishful Thinking: Arrival on Kogal

by SamPardi



Series: The Life and Times of Inquisitor Pardi [1]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 28,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4959946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamPardi/pseuds/SamPardi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An SI gets dropped into the Segmentum Tempestes with mutagenic powers, a chakra network and not much else. Can they evade accusations of heresy, burning the mutant and getting krumped by Orkz long enough to establish themselves and make a difference?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Worm CYOA, the second version." A voice stated from the dark. "Skitter mode and not AU. Twins is limited to Wards from Brockton Bay and Wildcard is the power of a random Great Lakes Avenger.  _Yes_  that includes Deadpool."  
  
I considered for a long moment. By this point I'd played with the system often enough and made enough builds with it that I didn't even need to see the pages. "Reincarnation for three points. Without a map for two... The other easy ones are out because of the central power of the build... Fuck. Ah well, I can still job it."  
  
I lean forwards, "Twins: Browbeat but Jail-broken. Full control over my own biology and infinite biomass reserve though I can only draw up to ten pounds a second. That's three. The other two I spend on Apprentice: Ninja Magic."  
  
"Full control is a bit much, isn't it?" The voice asked with disapproval. "Your making the 'self' a bit fluid there."  
  
"I want to make more than just minor adjustments to the human form. Moving between discrete forms would just be shape-shifting and that would suck away all the creativity." I argue back.  
  
"How about we make it function like a Primal Zerg with a regenerating Essence reserve?" The offer. "You can still modify yourself internally, but it's more abstract and directed."  
  
"That... Sounds okay." I agree.  
  
"Great! Now... Get out there and kill some Orkz for me!"  
  
"Oh shi--"

* * *

"-it!" I finish my curse just in time to have my ears filled with the roar of a charging Ork Boy.

  
The green being's sheer physical presence makes him feel closer than her really is. At the moment he's still about ten yards out but that's falling fast. I'm sure he must be at least four hundred pounds, all muscle, and in his hands is a massive fucking axe with a jagged edge that seems like it would be unpleasant to die on.  
  
"Oh-god-oh-god-oh-god! I  _need_  to move!" Something in me loosens, like a muscle I didn't know I'd kept taut, and suddenly the world slows to a crawl. It loosens a little further and suddenly I can see the Ork in impossibly high definition, making out every minor scratch and scar in his thickly muscled arms and bare torso.  
  
Belatedly I realize I'm holding a pistol and now is a  _very_ good time to use it. I raise it, feeling like I'm pushing against toffee as it slowly raises. My hand comes to a stop with the weapon aimed directly at the creature's left eye and I pull the trigger.  
  
A red beam of coruscating light flashes from the tip and leaps across the distance between us burrowing into the cheek just below the eye. I'm treated to the unpleasant sight of watching the eye-ball flash-boil and the skin of the cheek char and warp in the extreme heat. Unfortunately it's only bone deep and he rears back roaring in pain.  
  
Finally my legs choose to respond to my orders and I start a stumbling run towards an empty looking street. The rubble from bombed out buildings nearly trips me but soon I'm on a flat and straight segment. I hear the Ork bellow in rage uncomfortably close behind me and the pelting of its legs as it chases after me. Another loosening sensation and my legs swell slightly as my speed increases dramatically.  
  
For what feels like ages I can't do anything but run while the bastard keeps hot on my heels.  
  
The streets I'm running through are depressingly monotone. Grey concrete streets. Grey concrete buildings. Bodies dressed in unfamiliar styles of grey clothes and all too familiar green and grey imperial guard uniforms. Somewhat depressingly the blood splatters were so unique in their  _not-grey_  properties that I couldn't help but feel they actually improved the decor.  _That's_  a depressing thought. I pushed myself harder, aesthetics be damned. I did  _not_  want to be splashed across the scenery anytime soon.  
  
My luck changed when I noticed a very bloody intersection in the distance. It wasn't giving off the sounds of occupation or active battle like I could hear in the distance though. At that point I could really only think one thing at the sight,  _loot_.  
  
Lucky for me I was right.  
  
The bodies of a squad of Sisters Sororitas were strewn across the intersection. Obviously they'd been ambushed but the damage was much too  _precise_  and  _clean_  to be Orkz. It was a mystery I'd have to solve later. For now I wanted the Heavy Bolter I noticed laying next to one of the corpses. It was the only weapon obviously visible at the moment.  
  
With a final sprint I made it to the weapon and started to heft it. For a brief moment it didn't budge, but then I felt that strange not-muscle loosen to a degree I hadn't known was possible and my arms swelled with muscles that thencompacted down until they looked  _merely_  Olympian in appearance. Now I could lift it, though it still  _felt_  heavy and cumbersome.  
  
I turned to face the Ork and saw what I'd have sworn was a delighted gleam in its remaining eye. I pulled the trigger. For a brief moment I thought it was broken before realizing that my perception of time had once again slowed. Although the rest of the world had seemed to go into slow motion the massive slugs that exploded from the barrel were still moving almost too fast to see. I could barely make out the kinetic impact of the slug burrowing into the Ork's chest before it exploded in a messy wave of green and red.  
  
The impacts stitched their way up its torso as the recoil pulled the weapon higher despite my best efforts. My feet left a visible trail in the dusty concrete as I was literally pushed backwards from the recoil I could absorb. Finally a slug smashed into the already damaged cheek and burrowed deep before popping the Ork's head like a watermelon at a Galhagher convention. I let my weapon fall silent.  
  
Despite listening for several long minutes, I couldn't hear any of the sounds of battle getting closer or any creeping feet. With a sigh of relief I fell back on my ass, ignoring the maroon spread of dried blood I was sitting on. My chest feels uncomfortably tight in the basic carapace armor I only now realize I'm wearing. For a brief moment I'm tempted to take it off so I can breathe freely. I quash that suicidal thought ruthlessly.  
  
My eyes rove around the bodies of the fallen Sororitas looking for anything else I can loot. It's not long before I notice one of them is  _only_  missing their head above the tongue level or so. Even with the blood I can tell the armor they're wearing is pristine.  
  
_Jack Pot._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam discovers essence and does some preliminary investigation into the Sororitas murder.

Before I can even approach the fallen sister my attention is stolen by golden embers slowly drifting upwards away from the Ork's corpse. I stand and slowly approach the corpse, keeping the bolter trained on it. When I'm only a few feet away from it the embers suddenly fly towards me as fast as bullets and I fire my weapon on instinct.

They completely ignore my armor and sink right into my chest. Thankfully rather than die a sudden and gory death I'm instead filled with a sense of hundreds of opportunities. Most I immediately dismiss. I don't want green skin, or to be made of fungus, or have tusks, or... you get the picture. Three of them make it past my instinctive filters.

The first is for denser muscles and I accept it immediately. Painful spasms and cramps wrack my body for a brief moment. When they end I feel much more relaxed and the Heavy Bolter feels lighter to heft.

Second was a straight up size increase. It'd make me stronger, faster, and harder to take down... But not more so than power-armor and I was already concerned I might be a bit tall for the armor. Ultimately I decided against it.

Lastly was the most intriguing. The 'Waaagh!'. Well it wouldn't be an exact copy. I could feel that much. However it would be something similar. A passive bonus that scales first with numbers and then with violence, including an intuitive understanding of the battle-field and instinctive coordination on levels that should be impossible without advanced command and control technologies. I didn't let the opportunity pass me by and accepted it. This time I oddly didn't feel anything at all, but I knew it was part of me now.

The rest faded away and that strange not-muscle tightened back up considerably.

With my mind centered and refocused I thought back to my original purpose in taking the biokinetic power: building an army of super-soldiers. While the 'easier' methods of reproduction were off the table, I was sure I had enough essence to give myself parthenogenesis and make my spawn fast growing and imprinting on their parents. However a quick survey of the area proved now was a bad time to worry about that.

Whoever had killed the Sororitas had looted them quite effectively. I could surmise the Heavy Bolter was simply too heavy for them take along. It had been the only weapon left. Most of the armor had taken catastrophic damage that would render it useless. Anything I made now wouldn't be tough enough to take on Orkz without equipment and I just didn't have any. If they didn't inherit my essence manipulation then they'd be even more boned... No it just wasn't worth it yet.

I was tentatively going to categorize the Sororitas killers as either Eldar, or Skitarii. The wounds were too clean for chain weapons or bolters and didn't carry the burns I'd expect from lasers, plasma or bio-rifles. Their deaths may have been brutal and bloody but the wound patterns showed efficiency. Generally they were wounded until disabled and then killed, after that the body was left alone entirely. Since there was no corresponding pile of corpses for the attackers it had to be a trained force that knew exactly what they were doing. I found the Eldar least likely. Why would they loot the weapons? Skitarii was the most frightening because it meant capital 'H' Heresy... Though why would they not desecrate the bodies in the name of their new Lords? A more benign case of mere Tech-Heresy perhaps? In any case I'd have to keep an eye out for both of them, just in case.

The ease with which I could carry the body whose armor I planned on looting surprised me for a moment. Shaking it off, I carried her to a nearby house that looked mostly intact. Only a couple rooms in I found a heavy dining table large enough to accommodate the entire body and set her down.

For a brief moment, in the relative safety of the building, I let myself wonder who she had been and what her name was. "I'll give you and your sisters a proper burial... But for now I really need to live. Forgive me."

Without further delay I focused myself on the task of getting the armor open and ready for a new user.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting the armor open and ROB shows up to have a chat.

I manage to get some of the peripheral pieces of her armor off before I run into a very real problem. About half of the bolts I need to unscrew to get it open are in recessed areas my fingers can't get into. A quick search of the nearby houses fails to turn up any screwdrivers or sockets. I'm also coming to realize that my time is more limited than I'd like as the smell makes it clear that the corpse I'm working around isn't getting any fresher.

In a moment of 'doh' I recall that I'd picked chakra. A half-hour of meditation is necessary to get hold of it and separate the sensations from when I'm working with my essence. As I'd rather expected my pool is a bit on the small side but that means its easily controlled enough to complete the wall-walking exercise on my first attempt. From there its a simple matter of applying rotation and I'm back in business. Though it is really strange to unscrew things with my palm.

When the armor opens it reveals the body of a woman about my height, 5'11", and similar bust but more of an hourglass than I was even before my abs got an upgrade. She was wearing a white tunic and shorts under the armor, but the material is stiff with dried sweat and sticks to her body when I touch it. I try my best to be respectful as I lift her out of the armor and carry her to the small plot of dirt passing for the house's backyard.

I grab a shovel I'd found earlier and dig until I hit concrete once more. Only three feet, so it'll be a shallow grave. It takes almost an hour to gather all of the bodies and body parts and get them into my make-shift grave. By the time I've finished there's barely room for dirt.

"Emperor... They were probably massive bitches, but they believed in you and died in your service and name. If you have any grace to give the wretched souls of this galaxy, spare some to guard their souls from chaos." It's not much of a service, but it's what I have to give.

For a few minutes I remain outside to watch the sunset. From here all I can see of this city and this world is all I've ever seen. Grey. Grey battlements in the far off distance. A cluster of grey towers to the south with a single great symbol of phallic compensation jutting up from the middle of them... also grey. The sky in the distance is choked with dust and it robs the sunset of its grandeur rendering its light a filthy maroon cast. Where it slaps against grey slabs of concrete it dyes it brown with just a touch of red, like blood-soaked dirt.

I walk back inside in disgust.

"Well haven't you been a resourceful one," A voice surprises me. I spin towards them raising the laser pistol I've been sure to carry everywhere. The sight of my own face stops me.

The woman standing there was me... Or was me before any upgrades at least. I'd always been on the tall side, but the mouse brown hair was something I'd grown into. My face was dominated by the nose, ever so slightly up-turned, and was otherwise rounded with features that were only a touch hardened by adult-hood. Despite my Scandinavian heritage my bust was never above a B-cup and my body tended towards being a straight slab... Admittedly with more flab than was healthy but I thought I carried it well.

"ROB." I guessed but felt pretty secure in this one.

"Got it in one. You know you look much hotter now," She commented, morphing her body to mimic my new muscles. I couldn't help but agree that I was much more attractive though clearly in a butch lesbian sort of way. Funny, I'd always gravitated to more girly things outside gaming. "Now I know you've got some questions-"

"You're damn right I do! I thought that was a dream. If I'd known it was for real I'd have taken a much different build! Hell if I'd known I'd wind up in 40K I'd have taken D&D wizard with library just to Plane Shift my way anywhere else." I all but shouted.

"Well then be glad you didn't. You know how ROBs work, the more you game the system the harder I bite back. Would you have really wanted The Changer of Way's pet Daemon Lord chasing you across the planes?" They asked. My blood ran cold at the thought. "I thought not. Here, with the powers at hand, you're just one more piece in a very big game. By the time anyone realizes your worth you'll already have the means to protect yourself."

"How... Magnanimous of you." I grind out. "So what's my goal? The Worm CYOA was ten years of survival. That may be harder here but it's certainly doable as long as I avoid death worlds and major invasions."

"Well... You'll need to do a bit more than survive ten years. Try two hundred." She replied. I could barely choke out a strangled squeak at the prospect. "However there are rewards for doing more than just survive. Not from the Worm CYOA, sadly, that one is much too free with the power ups. I'm thinking probably the [Demigod CYOA](http://i.imgur.com/2oQfs6l.jpg). Should give you what you need while keeping you humble. Congratulations, by the way, you already earned one point from killing the Ork Choppa. I honestly expected you to just run away and eventually lose him. Of course now that you've got your feet don't expect a measly kill or two to earn you any more points. But I guess I can give a minor clue for how to get more so listen well: you'll be up for at least one more point if you solve the little mystery you've stumbled onto."

I'm silent for a long moment as I process that but finally I can't help but ask. "Where the fuck am I? For that matter, when the fuck am I?"

"Tempestus Segmentum, Forsarr Sector, Mantifrey System, Hive World Kogal, June sixth, 997.M41." She answered. "If you stay here you'll have splinters off the local 'Waaagh!' to deal with. Assuming they win their fight with the Raven Guards at the dawn of M42 you'll then have to contend with the 'Waaagh!' itself as it spreads out to secure its hold on the sector. Assuming you survive that, or aren't killed as a heretic by the Ecchlesiarchy troops tying to take back the sector should the Raven Guard hold, you'll then have to fight either an even bigger Ork 'Waaagh!' or the Tyrannids depending on who wins the fight over Octarius."

I just give the greater being a flat look. Intellectually I know I should be glad not to just be dropped in front of a Black Crusade or Hive Fleet Behemoth, but that doesn't make my current situation any less dangerous. "Great... Anything else I should know?"

"Probably! But it wouldn't be fun if you didn't find it out for yourself!" She told me. "I think I'll leave you to it now."

"Wait! What are you getting from all this?" I can't help but ask.

"Me? Hmmm... Let's just say there are a few beings around here that have earned a swift kick in the plans. Assuming you live long enough, I'm sure you'll get the chance to give 'em one for me. Otherwise... Because it's fun! Ciao." With those last words she simply walked away while she faded into nothing.

I shook my head in disgust but that was when the adrenaline finally left my system and the exhaustion rushed back in. It was dark anyways and there was a sleeping pallet in the next room. If I wanted the energy to face this mess tomorrow, I'd better take the rest while I can get it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Investigates further in the hopes of finding a trail worth following.

The next morning I test the water in the building and find out its surprisingly still working. I can't help taking a long shower to get the grime and sweat of the previous day off. When I get out I spend a moment looking at my carapace armor but decide not to bother putting it back on. When I leave it will be in a full suit of power armor, and I don't want to chance any extra layers under the armor that might take up space needed by an evolution.

Instead I take the mirror from the bathroom and lean it against the wall in front room. Now I can stand far enough away to see my whole body and any changes made. Like anyone I was tempted to 'fix things' and idealize myself but I tamped down on that. Whether I could afford to spare essence was still something of an unknown. I'd need more experience. Right now my priority was survival and muscle development did far more for that than my sexual characteristics. Instead I changed my pheromones slightly to affect both genders and to be produced more plentifully In case I run into any other humans. They'll be a lot less likely to shoot me in the face for heresy if they're trying to get into my... well armor in this case.

After a brief check of the eyes to ensure I hadn't accidentally given myself a cats-eye, I hadn't, I focused on the tongue. Suddenly I could taste so much more than I had before, like the lingering scent of a lilac perfume and was nearly overwhelmed with the stench of recent death. A quick test showed I could use strength of a taste in the air for tracking purposes. The mirror confirmed that there were no visible differences to my mouth and tongue. Apparently neither of my changes so far were expensive since I could still feel the not-muscle pulled tight, if not quite as tight as it was when I woke up.

Finally I tried making my muscles denser. All I accomplished was giving myself a few painful muscle spasms. Unbidden I knew that I'd reached the limits of what my understanding in muscle density. I'd need to find a better base blue-print than the Ork had given me if I wanted to improve it any more.

Actually putting on the armor was a minor adventure in and of itself. Thankfully it was designed for the user to be able to put it on alone, but it still assumed some tools I didn't have. It took some slightly painful contortions to get my palm over some of the bolts. After a good hour's work it was finally on and functional.

The first thing I did was climb the walls, literally. Being able to walk up almost any surface was practically a super power on its own and one of the single best uses of chakra, in my opinion. I really didn't want to give that up. As it turned out, I didn't have to. While it took more energy, partially from the weight and partially from the added distance between foot and wall, I could safely walk myself up to where the wall met the ceiling. It drained far more chakra than I'd like but my reserves were only just getting a workout.

In a fit of inspiration I tried using my essence to increase my chakra. It didn't even make the attempt, just granted me the sudden knowledge that I didn't know enough about chakra to even try something that complicated.

When I finally did leave the house I realized I actually had nowhere in particular to go. The city was a war zone and I wasn't going to find any civilians willing to put me up, especially not while dressed like a member of the inquisition. But I had no idea where the real battles were and who was fighting them. An Imperial Guard unit on the front was ideal since they wouldn't mind hooking up with some heavy support and wouldn't question me while I was obviously human as long as I didn't act too heretical. I couldn't think of any other human unit type I'd actually want to meet, come to think of it. Inquisitors were bad news, Sororitas would know I'm not one of them, Space Marines didn't get along with Sororitas and would probably just point me to the local Ecclesiarchy command post... Unless even they thought they could use the support and I had no desire to see anything that made a Space Marine squad want backup.

Without any other leads it was either run off in a random direction or see if I could find anything new about the ambush. It was an easy decision.

It wasn't hard to find the building the ambushers had attacked from. Just because they hadn't hit their targets didn't mean the Sororitas didn't shoot back. That the small craters of bolter rounds focused on the second and third floor of the small apartment building gave me a good idea of their relative position.

When I finally reached the rooms involved there was a lingering scent of ozone which I'd have more readily associated with plasma. My perfect vision caught the disturbances in the dust just in-front of the window in one of the more damaged rooms. The pattern was much more defined than I would have expected. Were they using vehicle class weapons?

In one of the less damaged rooms the smell of oil and ash permeated the room and there was a slight copper tang as well. There was a concentrated area of fire damage along one of the walls. As I got closer I could pick out the weaker tastes, one sharp and metallic the other like a lit match. Magnesium probably for the metal and I think they used phosphorus in matches. The burnt patch was also where the blood and oil smell originated from... So one of them must have actually gotten hit.

"Skitarii. Definitely Skitarii." I mused. "Weapons... Solid slug, possibly a small vehicle grade. How did they move around something that size? Teams? No, I'm missing something. There's no sign of the anchoring you'd want with a vehicle grade weapon and anything big enough to tear through power armor in one hit isn't going to fit through the door."

My eyes track back to the fire damage. "They actively tried to conceal their involvement. Rational. And only makes sense if they didn't already know who would do it. So they can still fit in with the other imperial forces... Again, a rational well planned action. So either a follower of Tzeentch or a tech-heretic. The first is possible, but the second feels more likely. Why...?"

I tasted the air again but came to an abrupt pause, "Ozone... Because of electrical discharge! Magnetic-accelerators! Of course a rogue magos could invent proper railguns!" It all fit, high velocity rounds doing disproportionate damage but with a 'clean' profile compared to bolters and the like. Then when they turn to engage the snipers a group with force swords attack what's become their rear. With the aid of true surprise and the Sororitas lack of super soldier upgrades it would be a slaughter.

With a tingle across my scalp I changed my hair to black so that I bore a passing resemblance to one of the women I'd buried and started walking. I wasn't aiming to infiltrate the imperial forces, but if it happened to work out that way I wasn't going to complain.

Magos were rare commodities and away from somewhere crawling with Mechanicus forces like a forge world he'd be the highest authority of his faction on the planet, hell in the system even. Inquisitors were the same but for the Ecclesiarchy. Either one could be a potentially powerful ally since I had something they wanted. As soon as they knew I existed they'd both be coming for me though. I didn't intend to just wait. Assuming they were in the city they'd be in the big phallus in the center. If not, it would still be the best place to look for information on them and their activities.

It was also visibly embattled with several dark plumes of smoke around the base. An audible crack fills the air and I watch as one of the minor towers at its base topples.

"Fun." I say aloud with as much sarcasm as possible. Despite my words I keep walking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam assists a some IGs and almost gets killed for her trouble.

"WAA-" The scream of a Bad Moons Shoota Boy is cut off by bolter round penetrating his arm pit and detonating inside his chest. He took one last wavering step before collapsing while choking on the blood that wouldn't stop flowing from his nose and mouth. A beautiful shot... were it intentional. The fusillade of rounds that followed it suggested otherwise.  
  
I watched from the fourth story of a nearby building as the rest of the Orkz squad ducked behind cover, these were Bad Moons, not Goffs after all, and ran my hand over my cold and quiet Heavy Bolter. I'd apparently stumbled upon one of the Imperial Guard's hardened positions in the city. A core group of bog standard Imperial Guardsmen were fighting in improvised cover while a tech-priest worked frantically to repair a damaged Leman Russ tank. It's main turret was obviously damaged and it was trapped turned the wrong way for the current engagement. Still its heavy bolter was functional and currently suppressing the main body of Orkz.  
  
I could fire from my current position and wreck the Ork position but I was hesitant. My position was isolated across from the Guardsmen and if the Orkz rushed me all I could do was run away. On the other hand I  _could_  run away. On yet another hand I found the assault odd. Why attack a tank when you don't have heavy weapons of your own? All the Orkz had were a couple squads of Shoota Boyz and a small horde of Gretchins. Even if they rushed the position and killed all the defenders the Heavy Bolter on the Leman Russ was still enough to kill them all before they could get to the tank itself.  
  
Finally I decide that I can't afford for a human to notice me being indecisive. Since I was dressed as a possibly psychotic fanatical nun it would be strange for me to show too much good sense.  _Fuck it_.  
  
I kicked out one of the windows, planted my feet for stability, and opened fire while screaming, "FOR THE EMPRAH!" My shells mostly walk across the squad of Orkz thanks to my strength compensating for the recoil. Not all hit, but then it's not like I'm aiming at my targets so much as controlling the spray of bullets.  
  
_I need to watch my 1d4 chan ref-_  
  
  
My thoughts are cut off by a red and yellow bloom of illumination. Without even questioning it I stop firing and throw myself to the right. A rocket streaks past me too fast to really focus on and hits the ceiling of the room. Thanks to my dodge I only get hit with the edge of the shockwave but it still sends me rolling along the floor and out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Only a purely reflexive hand reaching out and grabbing the floor before I fell saved me from a short flight and a nasty impact. Nearly wrenched my arm out of my socket though. My Heavy Bolter slapped against my thighs as it dangled from its shoulder strap.  
  
It was slow going getting my heavy form back into the room and taught me on the fly how to stick my knees to the wall since my feet found only more empty space. By the time I was fully into the room and able to simply lay on my back I was panting from exertion and suffering from mild chakra depletion. Still I forced myself to crawl across the room, carefully avoiding the few spots that were still burning, and get a view of the battle.  
  
Things were going better for the Guardsmen on the whole. Breaking half the Ork formation allowed them push into much better cover. Sadly the arrival of a Killa Kan had quickly evened the score. Only one of the Rokkit hard-points was left but if it managed to silence the Leman Russ' bolter it'd be game over for the Guardsmen.  
  
Letting the Heavy Bolter hang I instead pulled out my Laser Pistol. With the lack of recoil perfect eye-sight and the coordination to translate that into essentially perfect aim I  _almost_  couldn't miss. My first shot burnt into the exposed part of the Rokkit's warhead. The flashy laser attack caught their attention but I fired again before anyone could turn to engage me. Unfortunately the second shot was a few centimeters off and merely widened the scorch mark on the casing. A third shot hit the blackened material and melted open a tiny opening. It's Big Shoota was raising in my direction and a few rounds from one of the Shoota Boyz were already peppering the wall to my left.  
  
My final shot was incredibly lucky, even as it disappeared within the Rokkit I'd have called it impossible. I'd known as soon as I pulled the trigger that I was going to miss, but at the last second the Killa Kan had overbalanced slightly and moved the weapon that last few millimeters into position. The modified Krakk warhead exploded in its rack and ripped a hole in the side of the mechanical menace while peppering the Orkz nearby with shrapnel. Immediately the machine stuttered and fell, its 'pilot' probably ripped to shreds by the shrapnel bouncing around inside the machine.  
  
The death of the heavy weapons platform gave the Guardsmen courage and they charged the Ork cover. I brought back out the Heavy Bolter and gave them support where I could. As I did I noticed the Kan was positively glowing with goldenembers while a single green orb lazily floated a circuit around it. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd even be able to use anything I could get from it considering I now had company.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stop by the Killa Kan for some essence before meeting the Guard

> I made the dead Killa Kan my first stop and carefully approached it so I was out of the Guardsmen's sight the whole time. If they made an issue of how long I took later I'd tell them I ran into a gretchin or something. Expecting it this time, I didn't jump when the embers and the orb zipped at me as soon as I entered an arbitrary range.
> 
> The flood of possibilities that came from those embers took me by surprise. I'd thought the essence would be solely from the Grot inside, but apparently since the neural connections meant the Grot  _was_  the Kan as they'd experienced it I could mimic some of its power and abilities. Still the vast majority of the essence designs were of little use except to make me more of a 'Grot' and such were dismissed out of hand. Another large group may have been useful but were far too obvious for use around humans, like turning one of my arms into a wickedly sharp buzz-saw.
> 
> Focusing on the most iffy of the remaining group, armored exoskeleton, I spent several moments pondering the ups and downs and what I knew and could design. Finally I accepted it but as I did I focused very strongly on  _how_  I wanted it implemented. Rather than mere plates covering my skin, I changed the concept into a weave of tan colored metal fibers that rested underneath my regular skin. While the protection wasn't as good, it wasn't as obvious. Still good enough to make me practically impervious to stubbers and give me a bit of resistance to lasers and plasma. The only outwards sign of a change was a darker complexion.
> 
> Second was another matter of defense but one I could benefit from more fully. This time I accepted the change in full and barely held back a scream of pain as my bones were slowly eroded and replaced in small sections at a time all throughout my body. When it finished they were an odd mix of what might have been carbon-fiber in a less advanced universe and an absurd alloy of tantalum that I was tempted to name Lesser Vibranium. Now they were rigid and strong but if something hit me hard enough to make them bend they would briefly and then snap back to their old shape as soon as the pressure was off. Momentary impacts would also be absorbed and then reflected away from the bone and into the less rigid meat along its entire length distributing the force of impact across an entire limb. It also had the strange effect of making me seem to walk slightly lighter.
> 
> My last major upgrade came from the way they were neurally interfaced with the Kan. It was actually Orkified Imperium technology and therefore ran on similar enough principles for me to actually use. Adeptus Sororitas armor was in almost all ways a scaled down copy of Space Marine armor. Of course by this time the loss of technology had already taken hold and any system the makers of the new design didn't understand they simply left in, including the neural interface that the Sororitas couldn't use because they lacked the secret of the Black Carapace necessary to interface with it.This meant my armor still had those connections. With a thought of acceptance and minor direction to be adaptable enough to bridge the minor gap in technologies the essence took hold.
> 
> The feeling of pressure under my skin built up in a few areas and then I felt it fold and expand creating small connective organs. At first nothing happened and then I felt a biting cold across my entire body. The pain was immense as every inch of my skin and  _more_  burned from the freezing chill. Then it veered into scalding heat and after that the feeling of being cut by a thousand razor blades. With that same frenetic pace it careened into another sensation entirely and I couldn't help shuddering and falling to my knees as heat gathered in my abdomen and my face turned beet red. It held that just long enough to push me to the edge, making me wonder if I'd fall prey to a spontaneous orgasm right there and then, but finally backed off until I felt nothing of any note, just the feeling of the concrete beneath my knees and fingers.
> 
> I can't help but choke out a laugh. "Like pearls unto swine... If only you knew the wonders that rest beneath your weary feet." I whispered aloud.
> 
> The sound of approaching footsteps met my ears and I could taste the sweat of a man and the sweat of a woman, no idea how I knew the difference, barely edging past the tastes of blood, oil and sulfer from the fallen Kan.
> 
> _Time to meet the locals,_  I think to myself as I climb back to my feet.
> 
>  
> 
>  


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds out there are multiple Inquisitors on planet and hitches a ride back to command with the Guardsmen.

"The lieutenant, ma'am!' The short guardswoman stated with a smart salute as the units LT approached. He was a tall young man, at least six feet, but thin and wiry which was accented by his close cropped blonde hair. There was an aura of youth around him that almost made him appear slightly younger than the early twenties he undoubtedly was.  
  
"Sister, I'm Lieutenant Feindt. I suppose I'm in charge of this lot, . With The Emperor's Blessing behind us we've managed to hold this point for the last day as we got the good Tech-Priest out here to repair this blessed weapon of The Emperor." He spoke eagerly and though he laid the religion on a bit thick for my benefit it obviously wasn't all an act. Frankly I think the pheromones were working on him and he was trying to impress me with his piety.  
  
"Lieutenant. I am Retributor Pardi, may The Emperor bless you. Indeed as you say he already has. I have important information that I must deliver to the Inquisitor in person." I stopped short of asking for anything. To be frank I just didn't know how big of assholes the Sororitas tended to be to everyone else. Did they keep a kind front? Or just sort of froth in people's faces about cleansing heresy with fire?  
  
He nodded in understanding, "The Tech-Priest assures me that the tank will be mobile soon. Depending on which Inquisitor you need to deliver your message to, we may be able to escort you. We're heading back to Command after this in any case."  
  
I stared him down as my adrenaline kicked in seeming to slow the world around me to a crawl.  _Which Inquisitor? There's more than one!? What sort of clusterfuck did I land in?_  
  
Thankfully none of my distress crossed my features as I pondered what response to give. Perhaps it was stupid of me but I could only think of one line to pull me out of it. If this failed I was going to have to kill a lot of guardsmen and that was something I  _really_  didn't want to do. Moral implications of murdering innocent men and women over crappy policies decided millenia ago, light years away and by men they'd not even be able to identify on sight aside; it'd leave copious evidence of their deaths by Imperial weaponry and give the Inquisitors a clear path to follow.  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" I asked in a stoic voice. As I spoke my perception of time returned to normal.  
  
He blushed while nearby Guardsmen turned away not to snicker, "Of course, Retributor! Last I heard the Inquisitor from the Ordo Hereticus was on the highest levels of Command negotiating with the Governer and Marshal for a task-force to investigate the properties of one of the local nobles. I'd heard she was being rather...  _forceful_  in the negotiations."  
  
"I see. Perhaps we shall catch her before she leaves, Emperor willing." I muse. "Wait, you said last you heard. Are you not in regular contact with Command?"  
  
He shook his head, "The, uh, Orkz have erected  _some_  sort of communications jamming over the area. We can hardly get signals passed between men who can see each other, let alone city-wide communication. It's been playing havoc with coordination. We can barely keep track of the lines. I've seen entire companies wandering into Command after the Orkz abandoned their area, while at the same time a runner from mere blocks away rushes in to report a new Ork offensive."  
  
"Oh, you sound as though you spent a fair amount of time at Command," I noticed. My eyes sweep over the camp, noting many things I saw the first time but hadn't actually taken note of. Guardsmen in just-barely not fitting armor, the terrified look in some of the young faces, a lack of basic muscle development here and there and the complete lack of a Commisar.  _No, they can't be..._  
  
"Ah, well, my men and I are more accustomed to the tasks one would expect in a busy place like Command. But they're brave as any other, and they have the training! By the Emperor we've been tasked a mission and we'll accomplish it or die trying! Of course we've managed the first so far, eh, so have no fear. We'll ensure you arrive with your message in one piece!" He quickly covered his initial admission with enthusiasm. A few of his subordinates rolled their eyes.  
  
 _Great, I'm surrounded by fucking_ clerks _!_  "The Emperor protects his faithful, Lieutenant, there was never need to fear." I said aloud and could almost feel the rising morale like a physical force but I'm not sure if that's their faith or my presence. "Before we need to move out, however, I was wondering if you had any spare chain-swords. I lost mine in the gut of an Ork on the way here."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rest while the tank gets fixed.

While we were waiting for the work to finish on the tank, I stood just behind the lines of entrenchment and watched the areas the Orkz had been attacking from just in case they decided to come back. It was a good balance of holding enough distance nobody tried to draw me into casual conversation while still being close enough that they felt the action was supportive rather than condescending. Mostly it meant I wound up hearing a  _lot_  of mostly useless gossip. I made sure to memorize all of it. While I wasn't sure how it would help me to know that the governor's mistress was almost hot enough to make up for being a massively condescending bitch there was no such thing as too much information.  
  
"Rations, Sister," A balding man twice the lieutenant's age offered me a bar wrapped in foil. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry but I accepted anyways. After all I hadn't eaten in...  
  
I nearly dropped the half-opened ration bar as I realized I hadn't eaten in over a day and still didn't feel hungry. It wasn't something I'd actually tried to change as far as I knew, so it must be a side-effect. After a bit of thought, while mechanically chewing on the wood bark tasting bar, it actually made sense. While primal zerg probably ate their targets to acquire essence, I simply absorbed it. And thinking back it was able to increase my mass without a physical source for the extra.  
  
It would make a great deal of sense if I was transmuting a small amount of essence straight to nutrients but didn't notice it because of the pool's regeneration.  
  
I was not the first to notice the low-level whine but I wasn't far off. Those of us with the best hearing were soon looking towards the sky trying to pick out the source of the sound. Our tension increased for a while as the sound grew until it finally resolved into something recognizable.  
  
"Valkyries. I'd recognize that engine whine anywhere," A blunt nosed woman stated for the group.  
  
Our posture relaxed but we kept our eyes on the sky out of curiosity. Soon enough a trio of dark shapes flying just low enough to have recognizable profiles flew overhead. They passed over our position in a matter of seconds and kept flying out towards the outskirts, or perhaps even out of the city itself. With my advanced sight I noted the number '188' emblazoned on their side.  
  
There was a sudden puff of smoke and one of the trio listed away from the other three. It took us a moment to figure out it was falling, but we could do nothing but watch its plunge. Eventually its course took it out of the convenient sight lines of the road. Still everyone knew what their fate must be.  
  
"Poor bastards," One of the men stated to a round of sad nods.  
  
"Yes. We'll have to let Command know about it when we get back in," Feindt spoke up. "Which should be soon."  
  
As if on cue the engines of the great tank fired to life. With a squeal of protesting mechanisms the treads slowly began to move, allowing the tank to begin a slow turn towards the street we'd be following most of the way to the tower. A spontaneous cheer rose up from the gathered Guardsmen and they quickly set about decamping from their positions.  
  
"Emperor bless them," Feindt said quietly still looking out towards the downed Valkyrie, "From what I've heard of the East their luck's just gone from bad to worse."  
  
"Luck... Perhaps..." I mused.  
  
"Of course, the Emperor Protects and they'll have his favor in great measure," He blushed and mistook my words for correction.  
  
I just nodded gravely to him and walked towards the front of the forming column. My thoughts, however, churned. What I saw when the Valkyrie was damaged felt...  _unnatural_. Not just odd or out of place, though it was both, but actually elicited a small emotional reaction in me. With time to think about it I only became more certain that it must have been sabotage.  _Chaos_  sabotage.  
  
 _At least two inquisitors, a tech-heretic, Orkz, an_  Orkish _jamming field, and now Chaos saboteurs... Seriously, what the hell is up with this world?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We journey onward but inevitably run into a troublesome situation.

After about a quarter of a mile we ran across a patrol group. They were about twice the size of our group and had a pair of local SUV equivalents rigged with Autocannons. Four of our more hardened members went with them to replenish losses. In exchange they updated our maps with the most current known Ork hot spots.  
  
We'd had to detour around one of them adding about half a mile to the trip but it meant we only met a half-dozen straggling Gretchins that were easily put down. Sometime during the march discussion turned to the Waaagh Garaghak as a whole. Being REMFs they actually had a much better concept of the conflict as a whole than your usual ground-pounders. Unfortunately the news wasn't good. While the Orkz hadn't really taken more than a handful of planets, they'd thus far been focusing on the ones that were most strongly fortified and guarded. Worse they'd used those planets as breeding and staging grounds swelling their numbers into the billions, and they were still being reinforced from the nearby Octarious Empire.  
  
Two years ago the sector capital of Forsarr fell and High Command pulled out pretty much any guards regiment who would follow the order. Now only the locals and the battle-crazed remained. There were few Commisars left throughout the forces as they'd been stuck choosing between High Command and a lynching, and they weren't exactly picked for the sense of self-preservation. Part of why my appearance was so welcome was because the Ecclesiarchy were about the only fully committed fighting force left aside from the Raven Guard, and that was mainly because they were too damn stubborn to give up on the sector's Shrine World of Magdelene IX.  
  
If it weren't for the damn Inquisitors I'd have been downright gleeful. A region where desperate people were facing an overwhelming enemy and felt like the Imperium abandoned them? Convince the locals you can make them an army of super-humans capable of beating back the Orkz if they could just get over being ever so slightly heretical and they'll be bending over backwards for you. Do so while the Inquisition is around and you'll instead find the whole planet deep-fried and extra crispy. Yourself as well,  _if you're lucky_.  
  
My thoughts were interrupted by the return of our scouts at a full pelt.  
  
"Orkz!" They wheezed out, and my eyes immediately snapped to the area behind them. Thankfully there was no sudden influx of Orkz chasing after them. "They're trying to set up a blockade ahead!"  
  
"How many?" Feindt asked while keeping his face carefully blank. Young he may be, but he was actually pretty decent at the whole CO thing.  
  
"Two dozen Orkz, thrice as many gretchins." The first man, a hard-eyed man with a five-o-clock shadow reported.  
  
 _So equal number of Boyz,_ "How far are they established?" I asked.  
  
"They were just setting up the walls. We didn't see any turrets,  _yet._ " His partner, who I recalled as the man to hand me the ration bar earlier, stated.  
  
"We've got an hour till dark... Less before they get the first turrets set up," Feindt mused, "The tank only has a few shells left. We either hit now or not at all and that means another detour."  
  
He looked at the map for a long moment and shook his head. "No we'll just have to pass into a more fortified area. LISTEN UP! We're going to set up an ambush at the end of the street here. The tank will roll out and hit the walls they're building from a distance. When the Orkz charge we catch them in the ambush and kill the majority of their forces. If we then charge the walls without delay we can end this decisively!"  
  
There was a chorus of ascent and the line got moving. Feindt paced himself so that he stayed next to me but was silent for a few long moments. When he finally spoke I almost didn't hear him over the din of the column's movement, "Am I doing the right thing here?"  
  
"Your options are limited and your plan is solid. Trust in your training and the Emperor's grace. Besides... you gave me a Chainsword, it would be horribly impolite to let you die now," I shot him a small grin at the end and increased my speed to get ahead of the column.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam weathers the Orkish charge at the tank .

As the power armored, heavy weapons wielding, budding spiritual icon and all around badass of the group, amazing what a bit of super strength and hand-eye coordination can do for your combat rating, I naturally volunteer to lead the small contingent that has to stand  _with_  the tank so that the Orkz don't question where the rest of the unit is. The four other individuals with me are all hard faced as the tank rolls towards the intersection it'll be shooting from. The others are all following behind the intimidating heavy vehicle at a decent jog. Instead of being so sensible I'm kneeling behind the turret gripping the edge of it with one hand while I hold to the small segment of metal under me by other means.  
  
As the Leman Russ pulls past the edge of the last building I'm hit with a strange sense of the surreal. It's like sometime between the grey building blocking my view and the Ork workers coming into view I stepped into a war movie. As soon as the tank stops and begins its turn, I shake off the sensation and leap off towards the opposite side of the intersection. It takes me a moment to get back to my feet and planted in a good position. Already Ork bullets are impacting around my position. The misses are still measured in feet so despite the spike of  _very_  rational fear I hold my ground and unleash much more accurate return fire on them.  
  
A veritable carpet of Gretchins is charging towards us but the tank and I both unleash a hailstorm of bolter rounds on them while the four brave men and woman behind me add their Lasers to the mix. The tank barks out a shot and one of the ramshackle walls already established is torn to shreds that then gore a half-dozen Gretchins and rip the arm off a Mek Boy. Roars of outrage resound and suddenly  _all_  of the Boyz in the blockade are wading through the Gretchins to get to us.  
  
When the tank barks again a Flame-Git simply disappears in a small conflagration as his fuel pack takes the hit meant for the wall behind him. I fire at one of the better armed Shoota Boyz and ironically take both arms off at the shoulders. Despite their relatively decent power, the few shots from the Lasguns directed towards the Boyz only prove either how much better their crude armor is than it looks or just how tough their skin really is. Realizing the futility they quickly went back to shooting the Gretchins and left the Boyz to myself and the tank guns.  
  
The tank fires its last round aiming into the coming horde. With my perfect sight and adrenaline pumped reactions I can watch it impact with a minor shockwave and then explode pumping incredible kinetic force, a lot of heat and dozens of small chucks of molten metal and broken concrete. Three Boyz go down along with another handful of Gretchin. My own fire stitches across the chest of a charging Shoota Boy and cracks the armor on the third round taking a huge chunk out of his chest. Laser fire and the tank's bolter bring down a group of ten Gretchins leaving less than a score of the wretches alive as the scattered out away from the tight charging formation. Even more quickly lost their lives for daring to obstruct the charge of their larger cousins.  
  
This was rather conveniently the moment at which the charging Orkz ran into the intersection Feindt selected for our ambush. A blinding wave of Laser fire lit up the intersection in question and through sheer weight of fire cut down a pair of Boyz while another half dozen found their armor developing molten weak-points that would soon prove bad for their health. While the four next to me continued to head-hunt Gretchins both my own bolter and the tank's focused on the Orkz with damaged armor. Three went down immediately form our wide spread and another lost his weapon when it took a bolter round to the firing mechanism.  
  
Ten of the green skinned menaces, including an Ork that must be on the very edge of Nob-hood, turn and charge at the ambushing forces. Thankfully this was anticipated and the ambushers should be about a half a block back from the entrance to the street giving themselves space to handle the resulting charge. The last pair of shoot boyz coming towards us are surprisingly smart and grab the Gretchins near their feet to use as meat-shields. Neither Gretchin survives the next round but it saves the Orkz themselves from anything more than glancing hits. In my target's case he gets off with only a glancing blow to the arm as after two shots my Heavy Bolter clicks empty.  
  
"Waaagh!" One of them screams in defiance.  
  
A pair of lasers impact against his exposed knee and flash-boil the kneecap. He stumbles and tries to make one more step, but then falls heavily. The tank's bolter turret finishes the job.  
  
I on the other hand am forced to drop my Heavy Bolter and take out my brand new, well centuries old and passed around like the village whore really, Chainsword. As I charge towards him I deftly evade his first couple shots but when I'm only a handful of feet away he gets off picture perfect shot at my abdomen. I grit my teeth against the pain and clench my muscles, pulling tighter and tighter until suddenly  _snaps_.  
  
A whole new sense for push and pull blossomed. The only way I could describe it was to suddenly wake to find you had a second set of muscles all along. When the shot impacted they recoiled and pushed back in an instant. To my shock the bullet flattened and then bounced off to ricochet off the ground to my side.  
  
The Ork and I closed the distance between ourselves before I could fully process my new discovery but it hardly mattered. He swung his Choppa at me in what felt like slow motion allowing me to easily plot my course so that I ducked around it. With full access to his now open side I brought my spinning Chainsword up and shoved it into his chest with all my strength, a not inconsiderable measure at this point. Blood poured over me as his chest practically burst in the face of my fury. Essence options flitted through my mind as quick as thought but there was little there I wanted, an extra strength upgrade for my liver, and a work-around to apply my muscle density upgrades to my heart.  
  
Trying something else I tried to just hold onto the pattern, the  _concept,_ of spore based reproduction. No dice.  
  
A few last laser blasts ended the last couple of Gretchins while I'd been taking my little blood bath. I wiped my face and looked around but found no enemies.I could still hear the sounds of battle from the ambush point. It took me a bit to get back to my dropped Heavy Bolter and change out the clip, but my small entourage of guardsmen waited for me.  
  
"Let's go!" I ordered and we quickly set off for the alleyway nearest the ambush intersection. The intersection itself was still getting the occasional laser blast passing through and we weren't so stupid as to purposefully walk into friendly fire.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam runs to the aid of the beleaguered guardsmen.

  
It's while I'm running for the alleyway that the full import of my little bulletproof trick hits me. Touch Telekinesis. The  _other_ half of Browbeat's power.

_Fuck! How fucking stupid can I be to forget something like that!_  I berate myself. Worst of all I'd had to expend effort to activate it meaning there was a good chance I may have gone days or even years without discovering it. Considering it was strong enough to nope Shoota bullets, though I wasn't ready to test if it worked against the bigger bolter round equivalents, its existence made a huge difference. Who knows, I may not have even needed to use chakra to get the armor open. Well, depending on the exact mechanics. There were more than a few forms of TTK and significant suggestions that most 'super strong' people had at least some degree of such a power.

_And I can't fucking test it now, can I!?_  I gripe to myself. Chakra was something I actually knew a fuck-ton about since I used to be really into Naruto so I hadn't felt the need to do much testing with it beyond quantity and whether I could perform the most basic exercises. Biokinesis had a pretty simple place in my build and I'd spent a long time thinking about how to make use of my self-development to eventually produce the best clones.

Soon there wasn't any time to worry about it as a Choppa Boy rushed out of the mouth of an alley in front of us. My Heavy Bolter barked as it sent three shells across the mere feet separating us. All three impacted against the axe wielder's bare chest and left bloody craters in their wake. Despite the damage it stumbled towards me but I just smashed the butt of my weapon into its stomach driving a bloody gasp from its lips. The Chppa fell from unfeeling fingers and the beast fell to a knee. The barrel of the weapon I'd already savaged him with briefly tapped him right between the eyes, and then his head was splashed all over the alleyway ahead of us.

"That seems to be our destination, careful of friendly fire. It's usually not." I tell my companions. Then I rethink the sentence and add, "Emperor Protects," which they all unthinkingly echoed.

The alleyway was surprisingly clear but it lead to just behind the melee. When we emerged into the road it was both better and worse than I feared. Blood and body parts were strewn across the alleyway but there were at least a dozen Guardsmen left and they were fighting cannily. They moved from cover to cover and were quick to dodge through doors too small for Orkz to follow when the enemy got too close. Only three Orkz were left standing and the main one was that damn pseudo-Nob which was shrugging off their laser fire with only minor permanent injury. I picked him as my target and aimed straight for the crotch. "Leave the big fucker to me! Take out the others, Emperor damn it!"

My shots were much more effective than the Lasguns but this truly was a surprisingly tough mother fucker. The first round went off in his crotch pissing him off to no end and breaking his stance. He charged towards me on unsteady legs and I took good chunks out of his left hip and exposed his lower right rib-cage to the world. Still he came at me, growing faster by the moment. Finally I abandoned the concept of easily finishing him off and dropped my Heavy Bolter to hang from its harness. Instead I pulled my Laspistol and Chainsword and quickly put a shot through each of his eyes. He roared in pain and was less disoriented than I hoped but he could only fire wildly in my direction and came no closer to hitting me.

I charged in while keeping low to avoid the Shoota rounds. The Boy must have heard me because he threw his Shoota at me and pulled out a wickedly curving Choppa. I danced around the metal projectile and fired a quick shot of laser into his already injured crotch. For all his might and power, for however incredibly tough his hide must have been, it didn't matter a whit as the shot bypassed already open layers of skin and muscle to burn at the specific muscles surrounding his right hip joint. He stumbled and I leaped forwards bringing my Chainsword up from below. It's a bloody mess of a decapitation, but I'd already been bathed in the blood of one Ork, what was another. His essence crashed into me and I let itthicken my skin while keeping the outermost layers normal as a cover and provide even denser muscles. Unless I became interested in getting  _much_  taller or growing tusks I wasn't sure how much more use I'd get out of Ork essence.

One of the other Orkz was brought down by sheer weight of fire, but the other had been killed as I'd been fighting. Now I walked over to its killer as he lay in the street, his entire right arm and most of the shoulder and chest around it missing. As I got closer I noticed I could literally see his right lung within his chest, partially seared and cracking open in places. I easily recognize him thanks to his earlier kindness. He was the one to share his rations with me.

"Si-ster," He said with a smile that soon descended into a grimace. His helmet had fallen off to reveal his bald head. I knelt next to him and put a gloved hand to his face. "His an-gel ca-me for me. I... I can die ha-ppy."

I almost tear up at his choked words but they don't come just as they never have. Once again I can't help but wonder to myself if I'm a sociopath. Why is it I can never seem to mourn my friends properly? Can never truly  _feel_  the grief when I _care_  so deeply.

"I have indeed, Guardsman. The emperor shall protect your soul and you shall be with him. Some day... Some day the Emperor will be whole and Chaos will be shattered and broken. You shall stand with him and his sons as a worthy, not in face of terror and death as plagues us now, but in  _righteous_  glory. So rest now, good man. Rest that you may go before the Emperor in peace." I hesitate for just a second, but ultimately steel myself and release a tiny push into his skull from my fingertips. His eyes widen as the pain disappears and then he falls into a final rest as the carefully targeted brain damage kills him.

A hand on my shoulder breaks my concentration on the man's body. I look up to see Feindt standing above me grim-faced and still bleeding. From the appearances of it a Choppa blow had sliced him brow to cheek and only barely missed the eye yet still forced it closed to avoid filling with blood.

I nod in understanding of his unspoken words and stand. Looking around at the battered and bruised survivors I note more survived than I thought. While six were dead outright and four more wounded enough to need carrying, that still left fourteen able men and women. Ten if we don't count those who will be carrying comrades. With the tank as support it'll be enough for random Ork patrols.

"Our work is not done yet. So long as one Ork remains to man that road block it remains a threat to operations in the area." Feindt called out. Fear and anger flitted across more than a few faces, but they all nodded and fell into line. We advanced slowly but as a single unit around the corner and towards the roadblock. Ultimately it was unnecessary, only a quartet of Gretchin stragglers remained and all of them were killed within seconds of being sighted. The tank soon followed us and after backtracking to pick up our wounded we were on our way once more.

Half a mile down, four more to go.   



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam arrives at the Tower at last.

A mile later we discovered a mine field. Or rather the woman a few steps of ahead of me discovered the minefield. She was a frail and underweight thing compared to the rest of the group. If anyone had a chance of not tripping a weight based trigger it was her. Sadly they were set for Gretchins and I was stuck wiping what I could of her off my armor before it dried hard.  
  
Our detour led us into an Ork patrol. Six Shoota boyz. I cut down three of them easily enough while the Guardsmen took the rest. It wasn't before a young man who looked like he'd lied about his age, though it wasn't really possible with the record keeping capacities of a Hive World, took an exploding bullet to the gut and died in horrible agony. At least the wound bled enough not to prolong it. By the time I'd watched the last Ork fall he'd already passed on sparing me from having to be the angel of mercy once more.  
  
Another quarter mile in and we were forced to cover by the sudden appearance of a Deffkopta. This must have been a particularly wealthy Ork as his first shot was an energy blast that vaporized its target. It happened so fast and left so little of its victim I honestly couldn't even say who was killed. In any case all of us opened up on the dangerous contraption with everything we had but it was incredibly fast and agile. Thankfully its second shot not only missed, taking a large chunk out of one of the nearby buildings, but also caused the weapon to explode in the pilot's face. It wasn't enough to kill the fucker or bring the Deffkopta down but it was enough distraction to allow my Heavy Bolter to accomplish both.  
  
Despite the Tech-Priest's protests we had the tank lead the way from then on. It wasn't exactly smooth sailing from there, as we kept running into Ork stragglers and isolated squads. Now, though, they were immediately set upon by the tank's Heavy Bolter turret followed soon by my own Heavy Bolter fire, overwhelming most foes quickly. The few that made it through that hail of exploding oversized bullets could then be drowned in laser before they made it close enough to kill anyone.  
  
With only a mile left to go we stumbled upon a Imperial Guard check point. We stopped there to get some food and rest for a few hours and then joined a much larger convoy heading towards Command. This was also my best chance to get gossip on the Inquistors before arriving at the tower and I drank all of it up.  
  
There were, in fact, only two Inquistors, Emprah be praised, and neither were of the Ordo Malleus. The woman, who'd earned some discrete mentions of being insanely hot for an Inquisitor, was of the Ordo Hereticus. However she was more of a witch hunter, trying to track down Sorcerers and unregistered Psykers. There were only two people in her retinue and in an odd mirror of this world they were a Sister of Battle and a Storm Trooper. Other gossip was that she had a hate-on for the Planetary Governor, that she was sleeping with  _both_  of her underlings, that she was here after a full on chaos outbreak, or alternately that she was searching for the fabled C _haos Ork_. Mostly I was left feeling that I wouldn't have much of a chance with her. I'd have to remove her from the board somehow. Perhaps set her on the trail of our saboteur from the ruinous powers.  
  
On the other hand there was the man from the Ordo Xenos, supposedly here to investigate this claim of Orkish jamming technology. It was a very serious threat after all. Compared to the other this Inquisitor had much more character as he literally wore Xeno-tech himself. Somehow through his Rogue Trader entourage he'd managed to slip entirely around a huge portion of the whole tech-heresy dilemma and come out on top. His primary weapon was also strange but from the descriptions being thrown around I couldn't help but think it was a rail gun. Could he have been responsible for the death of the woman whose armor I'm wearing? It seemed absurd on the surface, but I couldn't entirely dismiss it.  
  
It was only once we were back on the road that I realized I'd forgotten to ask about a Magos.  
  
Moving behind our own lines for once we made quick time to the Tower and entered the great underground garage where they were coordinating all of the vehicles. Before Feindt could even check us in a Tech-Priest had found our group and approached me specifically. "Sister," it began in a bleak monotone, "The Magos would see you immediately."  
  
I smiled on the outside while inside my mind was a whirl. To be frank I wasn't afraid of the Magos. He was the one I most wanted to understand, but I'd hoped to learn much more about him before meeting him. Tech-Heresy can be motivated by many good things... And many  _bad_  things. If he was too far gone down the rabbit hole or consorting with Chaos I'd take care of him myself. "Of course." I gave Feindt a friendly nod and then stepped up to the scarlet robed cyborg. "Please, lead the way."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets the Magos.

Riding in the elevator with a Tech-Priest is a rather novel experience. I'd kept my Heavy Bolter even if I just kept it hanging from its harness. The Tech-Priest himself had an obvious Plasma Pistol at his side but otherwise seemed unarmed. Even so I was heavily armored and he was mostly cybernetic and both of us took up more space than your average shoulder because of those circumstances.  
  
I found myself unspeakable grateful I hadn't landed in the Mass Effect universe when the elevator doors opened just about the time I was starting to get impatient with the ride. The Tech-Priest led me past a pair of servitors armed with Lasguns who fell in behind us as soon as we passed. They made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge but I forced myself to not react to their menace. Soon ze, sex being impossible to identify, led me to a large room with few lights and a large table in the center.  
  
The gloom was probably supposed to be intimidating but my sight wasn't effected by it. I knew it was darker, but that didn't actually make it harder for me to see. Large pillars also surrounded the center portion of the room making it hard to get a good luck at the full layout of the walls.  
  
Rather than sweep in through the opposite doors the way I was expecting, the Magos came in a side entrance that made him seem to simply  _appear_  out from behind the far pillars. He, and I was much more certain the tall, broad figure before me was a male, had an inscrutable metal dome where one would expect a head and only the presence of small clusters of cameras let me know he was even looking at me. Six mechadendrites weaved around him and two held weapons that were unusually curved and graceful for Mechanicus designs. As soon as he'd come to a stop on his side of the table a pair of heavily armored Skitarii that reminded me of the box art of the Killzone series stepped out from behind the pillars and flanked him. They were both armed with those oddly rounded designs as well.  
  
"Who are you?" His voice is monotone and carries the interference people expect from a poorly synthesized voice. None of that detracts from my understand of just how dead serious he is.  
  
"I'm a mutant, I suppose. A product of genetic engineering from the very distant past," I lie, subconsciously expending essence to make my body agree. My true origin is unbelievable so I need one that makes itself air tight. If he decides to dissect me I can just kill everyone here and escape, but won't help if I'm a huge temptation to whoever investigates his death. I need something that won't make those in power tempted to throw giant fleets at me. A lone mutant is an annoyance and below the threshold to register on the greater threat overview. "When his facilities were almost discovered my creator launched my stasis chamber into space. It apparently came down here, spit me out and destroyed itself. I woke up naked, alone and confused."  
  
"That does not explain how you did a fair impersonation of a Sororitas," He stated.  
  
"I simply copied a portion of her episodic memory onto my own," I told him. My essence shifted a few details in my brain and added a small side stomach that made that actually possible. While eating brains was hardly appetizing, it would be extremely useful for gathering information.  
  
"Then you know what they knew?" He asked.  
  
"Only a portion. I know of the Emperor and the Imperium, of Orkz and the other forces arrayed against humanity. And I know you were considered dangerously open-minded. What that means, I really can't guess," I tell him.  _Come on, take the bait you bastard. I_ need _a base of operations in this universe._  
  
For a long moment he was silent. "There... May be a use for you. It would be a shame for the Inquisition to simply destroy something so useful to the continued survival of humanity. However you must be tested, yes. I have been negotiating for greater security from the reaching hands of the Inquisition with a rather like minded Inquisitor. However we created an algorithm for him to track the source of the jamming field, and he has not returned from that task nor has the field lifted. A similar device to the one he posses will be granted to you. Find him, return him, and you will have earned my protection... For whatever its worth in these dark days."  
  
I nod. Another Tech-Priest appears from behind a pillar and hands me a large box with a seemingly primitive radar display on it. As I move it around I notice large waves and blobs of color appearing across the display. "The jamming signal creates many hot-spots but it is not centered within these. Those positions are indicated by red and where it degrades to green there is only the lightest jamming. Rather than being heavily jammed, the source will likely be a large region of lightly jammed space surrounded by hot spots." The tech priest explained.  
  
"I understand. Thank you." I tell him. The Tech-Priest nods to me and walks away.  
  
"The source is undoubtedly outside the city and in the nearby hills. You will be assigned a Valkyrie and a small squad of my Skitarii to assist you. They will meet you at the launch pad." The magos said.  
  
The Tech-Priest that was originally my guide subtly signals me and I turn to follow him.  
  
 _Seems like I managed to find a quest-giver... lucky me._ The thought was only partially sarcastic. That could have ended so much worse. Then I thought of those Skitarii and how easy it would be to have them take me out somewhere nice and quiet like those mountains.  _Yeah, this could still be a bad end, but right now its the best I've got._


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam catches a ride out to the mission destination, but disaster ensues.

Before leaving the tower I was given a chance to gear up. Mostly I just grabbed ammunition for my trusty Heavy Bolter, but I also switched out my Laspistol for a Bolt Pistol. The Chainsword I kept when I saw the options available. She may have been a long-toothed whore but at least I knew I wouldn't catch any diseases from her. Thankfully there's also a chance to get all the people bits and Orky blood hosed off my armor, its as close as I'll get to a shower for the foreseeable future.  
  
Feeling shiny once more I trooped my way up a few floors and out onto the landing pads. As the Command center for the entire planet there over a dozen strike craft currently being fueled and who knew how many out on missions. My eyes rested on the hanging banner of which had briefly shown only the '88'. For a second I had been confused as my mind wandered back to the Empire 88 for some reason. Then it read 188 again. Something familiar about that, but I couldn't put my finger on it.  
  
The Skitarii were a half-dozen brainwashed cybernetic thugs of few words and big guns. I didn't mind the former and actively approved of the latter when I realized they were Lascannons and Railguns only. So no death by sudden catastrophic plasma explosion or radiation leak. Good things in my book. That brief meditation on my own mortality also convinced me it was finally time to make one of the larger biological changes I'd been holding off on. This was going to be a complicated one so I waited until we were all loaded and I could take a relatively stable seat to start the changes.  
  
My main original intention had been to simply reproduce through parthenogenesis, but this was not a setting I wanted to ever be pregnant in. Now I wanted to be oviparous and take advantage of my new mutation to create pre-educated back-up but I had no intention of taking off my armor out in the field. Instead I created sacks of practically microscopic eggs in the back of my mouth to either side of where my tongue became an independent organ. Another gland on the roof of my mouth would excrete a sticky substance that congeals into a rubbery substance over the course of an hour then quickly degrades over the course of a couple days. Lastly I modified the nutrient creators for the eggs so that they'd alsocontain traces of the compound my new organ would have created should I have fed it my own brain. (That was surprisingly intuitive to figure out but it was all due how the whole system worked and that was actually kind of beyond me.Essence is bullshit.)  
  
The sacks were actually useless and the beings created would simply be hermaphroditic removing the need for outside help to get their reproduction going. Since they were normally useless I'd have to flood them essence to nourish and activate the eggs which would immediately flood into my mouth proper. Fill the mouth with the bonding material and then spit out somewhere relatively safe and the eggs will hatch in a few days. The infants will have the knowledge and the basic dexterity needed to survive the following few weeks where they grow into adults. It's not ideal but any faster and the constant insatiable hunger will cause them to grow up in a perpetual state of murderous frenzy.  
  
Just as I was satisfied with my changes and feeling a little loose from the relaxed state of my metaphorical muscle, my eyes were drawn to a sudden blossom of darkness on one of the walls just about where the wing met the rest of the craft. I turned to see what it was and nearly vomited.  _UNNATURAL!_  
  
And then it exploded in a horrifying mixture of 450 degree angles and fractional whole numbers, liberally interspersed with fire the color of the ocean on an airless moon and other  _things._  The Valkyrie was nothing before the undoing of the very laws of nature and it plummeted in a sharp and disorienting spin. I barely saw the forest outside through the hole in the ship before I was sucked out and smashed into a massive tree as I tumbled towards a hard impact with the ground.  
  
Luckily it didn't even knock me out. Threw me around, knocked the wind out of me, and broke my left arm, but I retained consciousness.  
  
When I eventually stood back up I noticed my power armor was dented across the chest and the left gauntlet was literally bent in the same direction as my arm. I tried to ignore the pain and just bend it back but I soon discovered that  _I_ wasn't going to be bending power armor any time soon. My Heavy Bolter slapped against my thigh reminding me it was there, but a quick one handed search showed my Bolt Pistol and Chainsword were lost to the fall. In scanning the area for any sign of them I noticed a tree with a large hollow in it.  
  
I giggled in insane irony as I realized that my  _ **stupid**  fucking moment of grade A  **dumbassery**_  had just given my the perfect location for a throw-away nest. All it cost was a Valkyrie and god knows which of the people that happened to be on it. Oh and my arm.  
  
Shaking off my brief fit of hysteria I focused what's left of my essence into only a few of the eggs causing them to launch from the sack into my mouth. Surrounding them in the protective fluid I spit the whole mess into my hand. Reaching into the hollow I press the sack against the a point where the top meets a sloped wall. This way the eggs will mature higher up and out of sight, then drop and roll down to floor of the hollow just before they hatch.  
  
My march towards where I estimate the crash site to be takes me across my Bolt Pistol which is fine other than a few scratches and a Skitarii crushed ungracefully against a large rock. I'd take his Railgun for myself but it's attached to a power supply in his backpack. Even if I could get it to work with my suit I don't have a port to plug it into or the knowledge to fuck around with the cabling. What I discovered at the crash site itself was both heartening and depressing.  
  
Three of the Skitarii had made it relatively unscathed since they'd been on the other side of the Valkyrie from the breath. There were still dings and dents in their armor but they were moving alright and their weapons were functional. A fourth was slowly dying from where a bit of metal still attached to the Valkyrie even after the crash that had become one with his heart and lungs. I wasn't meaning he was impaled on it either, rather the metal had phased through him somehow before returning to reality. Unfortunately reality was trying to correct itself and moment by moment more of the combined molecules evaporated into the warp. Before I moved on I had two of the Skitarii work together to pull my gauntlet straight. I wound up needing to provide some discreet help, but it worked this time.  
  
What little I'd regenerated of my essence flooded the limb to slowly knit the practically amputated arm back together.  
  
"Anyone alive in there?" I shouted and banged against the still closed cockpit door. There was a muffled response so I took that as a yes and ripped the door off entirely. Charging in I clambered up the back of the co-pilots chair and found them nursing a rapidly forming bruise on the side of their head where she'd hit the panel. "Hey, you'll be okay but take it slow. Can you understand what I'm saying, Guardsman? If you can understand, answer me."  
  
"Fine... I'm fine," She insisted as she blearily realized what was going on.  
  
"Good, now stay there.  _Don't move._ I'm going to go check on the pilot," I order her. The climb to the pilot seat is slightly harder. I see a branch stuck through the broken front window and terminating in the seat and fear the worst. Instead I find him unconcious and practically wrapped around the branch which enters the seat just a few inches forwards of his crotch. "You  _lucky_  bastard."  
  
"Kaven... How's Kaven?" The co-pilot asks me with a worried glance.  
  
Belatedly I check his vitals but they're going strong. "He'll make it out fine, but he's unconscious at the moment." I respond and climb back over to her. "Now we need to get you out find somewhere you can sit. That's a nasty head wound and we don't want you making it any worse."  
  
"But Kaven--" She began to protest.  
  
" _Will be fine_. Which can't be said for you if you don't take some care of yourself." I tell her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam discovers a mysterious Imperial Guard camp.

It took over an hour for Kaven to wake up and his co-pilot to finally calm down. Only then did I finally get their names properly, Kaven and Farei Cafarrel. Apparently they were a brother-sister team that had proven themselves several times over. Not necessarily the aces of their squad who had  _mysteriously_ gone down early yesterday, but still top-tier pilots in their unit.  
  
"We've only made it to the foothills. The landing zone was still twenty kilometers away, an easy hop in the bird but now..." Kaven pointed out.  
  
"It's a trek we'll have to make," I tell him. I can almost feel myself slipping back into my Retributor persona, "The Emperor has favored us by allowing us to survive such a crash. However such a spectacle will have drawn their opportunistic members. It's only luck that we are not already being overrun. We all need to gather what supplies we can carry and may need, then we will proceed forwards. Once that jamming equipment is destroyed we'll be able to call for a safe extraction."  
  
Internally I was far less certain. Twelve and a half miles of Ork infested forest was not going to be easy to cross. Even more, that was only the beginning of the trip and we were walking straight into a situation an Inquisitor hadn't been able to able to walk out of. Sadly the only way forwards was through.  
  
We loaded up quickly and managed to get underway before any Orkz discovered the crash site. What followed were long hours of slogging through underbrush and getting mud all over our boots without the slightest hint of Ork activity. Frankly it wasn't worth talking about until we got to a gully about eight miles in.  
  
"It's an Imperial Outpost!" Farei exclaimed as we looked down from a outcropping overlooking the camp. "We can hole up here, and I'm sure they can spare a squad or two to help you find the Inquisitor!"  
  
"Quiet!" I hiss out.  
  
She looks at me as though burned and steps back next to her brother.  
  
I ignore her as my eyes rove over the camp. The unit banners are all for the '981st' regiment. Clever but not clever enough, 9 is the sacred number of Tzeentch and 81 is 9*9, making it a very basic way of encoding the number 999. Their regimental symbol is an orange flame leaning towards the viewer's right. A simple inversion of the flame of Tzeentch which is the complimentary blue and favors the left. Even more there are robed individuals within the camp. Their outer layer is red but the inner layers are purples and blues.  
  
My eyes track to a large open space in the center of camp. Normal observers might be fooled but I can see the blood speckled outside the circle. Fools only cleaned up within the ritual area, or perhaps made burning the evidence away part of the ritual itself.  
  
"Cultists," I sneered in genuine disgust.  
  
"What!?" The siblings shouted in stereo.  
  
"Constant allusion to the number nine. Strange robed individuals. Mysterious clear spaces, probably a lot of blood particulates if we could get down there to look at them. They're chaos and they're  _very_  dug in." I answer them.  
  
I look back over the base this time trying to get a feel for the numbers and capabilities. A hundred guardsmen give a dozen or so, half that in cultists. I don't see any heavy weapons, or even very many Lasguns. Autoguns seem to be the order of the day, but so many in one place is still dangerous. A couple of Chimeras and four local truck equivalents fitted with Miniguns are resting in something of a makeshift motor pool. Whoever the commander of the base is they're keeping out of sight. Probably too mutated by the warp to easily pass for a simple officer.  
  
"We can go around them. Find the Inquisitor, break the jamming, and order an air-strike.  _This_  is not our mission," Kevan argued quietly.  
  
I was about to agree with him when I noticed one of the traitor guardsmen exit a tent holding something I recognized. Of course I would recognize it considering there was one literally not three feet from my face. "Railgun... Emperor damn them, I'm pretty sure we just found the Inquisitor."  
  
Both of those capable of speech paled and looked at me like I was about to order them for breakfast.  
  
"Oh calm the fuck down. If anyone is going  _into_  the camp its me," I told them and watched them visibly untense. Shaking my head I turned to the Skitarii. "Stay on this hill. If anyone sounds the alarm, shoot them. If anyone spots me saving the Inquisitor, shoot them. And once the camp knows we're here put those damn vehicles out of commission as quickly as you can. Guardsmen move over there so you can see down the Gully a bit. If they start leaving the camp make them regret it. I'll go in and get the Inquisitor. Failing that I'll make a big enough mess and distraction that you should only have to deal with stragglers."  
  
I walked back to the forest to circle around and couldn't resist one speaking one last thought aloud, "Maybe they'll have a Chainsword I can use."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam sneaks into the camp and gets a little bit violent with the inhabitants.

Sneaking around is the kind of thing that is always equal parts really hard and embarrassingly easy. People just don't naturally pay enough attention to their surroundings even when they do they tend to focus on their eyes. With my ability totaste the air it's made much easier. Strength of the taste roughly equals distance and how it lingers tell me how long they've been there. No sight required.  
  
My first stop wasn't the Inquisitor's tent. That was near the center of the camp and I figured taste test or no chances were I'd get caught in there or nearby. No, my first stop was the motor pool. Those Chimeras were  _not_  going to be a threat to me when the time came. Hell if I accomplished that alone my chances of success on this little venture raised dramatically. Of course I was also lacking heavy explosives, but I had picked up a few grenades from the Valkyrie's stores.  
  
For several nerve-wracking seconds I have to climb on top of one of the Chimera, but I use its turret to hide me as long as possible and stay low slithering along the surface until I'm inside. As it turns out the driver's compartment of a Chimera is not the most spacious place and not meant for my armor. Turning myself right-side up is clearly impossible, but that's okay I suppose. I only have one Krak Grenade so I have to work carefully as I lay it down by the pedals andset it just on the edge of priming itself. Any small jolt or jostle and the controls go boom.  
  
Having completed one doesn't make the second any less nerve-wracking. I had to get down without being seen, slide between the two great machines while a patrol walked by on the other side and then get back up and in before the patrol in question rounded the corner and came down the other side. This time I was a bit less careful since they were standard frags and simply pulled the pins while I held the area the pins had been in. A bit of my new spit-crete modified to dissolve over the course of fifteen minutes and packed in with my touch telekinesis set the timer. It was also unstable enough a good jostle would set it off before the time was up. These wound up under the seat where their deadly load would be hidden but fatal to all occupants.  
  
When I realized the patrol hand't completely passed the tank I was in I was horrifically tempted to just snap their necks and reduce the numbers a bit. I didn't. Leaving bodies lying around would just get me caught. Until I had the Inquisitor with me, there was no excuse for doing something so easily discovered.  
  
I wish I could say I ghosted through the camp from there like Solid Snake, but I didn't. I had all three of my powers assisting me in moving silently and leaving no footprints and I  _still_  felt like I was noisily blundering my way through the area. My own nerves were not a part of the enemy forces though and by avoiding open areas and people I managed to get through without raising any sort of alarm. The tent I'd seen the cultist take the Railgun from was surprisingly unguarded and without a watch, when I got in I understood why.  
  
There was no prisoner here, though the blood stained area with shackles and a bucket near the back suggested it was where he was kept. A table nearby had pieces of Xeno-tech armor, curved and graceful and also quite light. There were no weapons, especially not the Railgun, I had no idea where that went. The other thing I noticed about the armor was that it had no Inquisitorial symbols. Another mystery on a planet full of them. Hopefully I could just ask the fucker this time.  
  
I heard someone approaching and tasted a growing copper tang of blood. If I didn't miss my guess someone was returning with my target. I'd have to thank them appropriately when they got here. With that in mind I slipped over next to the entry-way of the tent and did my level best to simply blend with the background.  
  
"I hope you've learned your lesson about silence," A pompous asshole spouted as he marched into the tent without even checking his corners. If I'd had a knife he'd already be dying.  
  
Two more guardsmen dragged in a man bleeding from cuts and still stinking of charred flesh. They'd left him nothing to cover his form and his lithe swimmer's build was on show for the world. As soon as he was in I moved.  
  
The advantage, I found, of super strength is that makes up for a huge lack in the arts. I wasn't completely untrained in hand to hand combat. I'd earned a few belts in kenpo and could throw my punches properly. However it wasn't those long past martial arts classes that let me mold my new found strength into a brutally efficient weapon. Instead it was my intellect and my knowledge of anatomy. So if the chop to the soft front neck of the nearest guard wasn't what a trained combatant would have done, that just added to the surprise. Doing so with the strength to bend steel sent him to the floor clutching his throat as he began the slow process of choking to death.  
  
I knew I had little time to deal with the second combatant and I wanted it to be relatively silent as well. A snap kick straight to the liver as he started to drop his prisoner was a pretty good compromise. His breath escaped him in a single great bark of pain. I'd hope those in audible range would assume it came from the prisoner. Liver shots were immensely painful and I couldn't guess how much worse that hurt when it was adamantium-ceramic composites propelled by super-human strength further enhanced by power armor. That's why I gave him a right hook to the temple which landed with an audible crack, you know, just to be sure.  
  
Arrogant ass was going for his Laspistol and about to shout for help but I spit a precision shot of spit-crete straight into his mouth. His eyes bugged out and he fell back from me dropping the Laspistol. I swept his legs from under him such that his head impacted on the solidly built metal table on the way down. He was down and probably dying but I stomped hard on his spine and was rewarded with the crack of fracturing bone.  
  
My first victim was still gasping for air but he'd actually managed to get his own pistol out and shakily aim it at me. I reached out and broke his wrist before snatching the pistol from his slack grasp as the pain floored him once more.  
  
For a few seconds I waited, listening for anyone attracted by the commotion. All I heard was a passerby laugh, probably assuming the damage was being done to the prisoner. Whoever they were they moved off quick enough finally leaving me to appreciate my blond coiffed prize... That sounded far too sexual considering I don't swing that way nor am I really into bondage. In any case I pick him up and move him to a chair probably meant for one of his interrogators, presumably arrogant von broke-spine over there. It's then that I realize one little minor problem.  
  
"Who in the Emperor's name are you?" I ask the man. The inquisitor was supposed to be a tall, lanky sort of man with a shaved head. This man is blond maned, a bit shorter than I was at the start and while lithe certainly too well muscled to ever be described as 'lanky'.  
  
"Smoit." The man said shortly. Well more like spat, but most of it landed on fucked face... Now that I looked at him his face looked really purple, almost blue. Huh, I guess it would be the spit-crete that gets the credit for him. "Caladan Smoit, Rogue Trader."  
  
"Well Trader Smoit, I'm looking for Inquisitor Fiach. He was last seen wearing armor of the like yours seems to be an item with. Am I to presume you know him in some capacity." I asked. He glared up at me in defiance at my tone but I wasn't done playing Sister so I pinned him with a serious look. "I'd recommend answering quickly lest I decide this was an internal matter between heretics. I'm sure if I'm wrong the Emperor will still protect your soul."  
  
"Yeah. Yeah I know him. Part of his retinue so save your threats. Chances are he's out there right now trying to figure a way to get me out of this mess." The Rogue Trader bragged. "Not that he really likes me, mind. Don't think he'd shed a tear if I died or anything like that. No, I'm just too damn useful to lose to a bunch of Emperor sodding morons on some backwards Hive World."  
  
I reached into my armor's built in satchel, it was kind of under the power pack which made it a bit hard to use at times, and withdrew a medical kit. One thing I'd never been good at was medical care and all of that, so I just handed him the kit and let him start figuring it out. "We have three minutes, give or take, before some of my sabotage goes off and they realize someone is here. Will you be able to walk by then?"  
  
He grimaces as he applies a salve over an open wound. "Walk? Fuck me for a game of soldiers, ma'am, but I'll be fighting beside you. I owe these mother fuckers some payback."  
  
I just nod and start stripping one of the false guardsmen of their armor. The poor bastard expired while I was working on him and his essence flowed into me. Oddly enough he had very well developed lungs, much better than mine in a strictly human kind of way. Didn't save him from having his head cracked open but what can you do. Another died and gave me a few liver and kidney enhancements. Sir Chokes-a-lot finally bit it and left nothing of interest. Go figure.  
  
Once his wounds were relatively dealt with I had to help him into the carapace armor, but seeing his limitations actually gave me a good feeling for his ability to help me. Swinging around a Chainsword would be beyond him, but lining up shots with a Lasgun he could do perfectly fine. He looked longingly at the table full of Xeno-tech we didn't have near enough time to equip him with. "If we manage a miracle, by The Emperor's Grace, and wipe out the camp, we'll come back for them. For now we must serve Him by living to bring vengeance on these fools another day."  
  
He looked at me sideways for a long moment, but finally nodded.  
  
Then an explosion sounded in the distance followed quickly by two more.  _Time to go._


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is leaving the camp.

I ducked out of the tent and into the larger camp. My eyes roved over the camp for a moment and took in the current situation.  
  
"Nope!" I declared and opened fire on a group of cultists gathered around the sacrificial circle. My companion gave me an odd look but quickly turned his Lasgun on the cultists, especially those outside the circle.  
  
A pair of laser blasts impact my armor and create momentary spots of heat deep enough I feel the heat of them on my naked skin. I turn to face the half-squad that has formed on us and walk my bolter rounds across them. They were caught without the significant advantage of powered armor and by rounds much scarier than mere laser blasts. When I ceased fire the unit was more parts than people.  
  
"Come on, this way!" I declared and set off towards the side of the camp that the pilots had set-up on. It really didn't surprise me that this also meant moving towards the sound of fighting.  
  
With all of the chaos, heh, going on in the camp it was surprisingly easy to make our way through. I think I wound up gunning down more than two dozen guardsmen on the way out, but they were isolated in groups of three to six at a time. Eventually we came on a cleared area just far enough back from the base's entrance that you couldn't be shot from outside. There a large man in a trench-coat with an asymmetrical pattern of horns growing form his head barked orders.  
  
"Get McGragan's squad to circle around! We  _need_  to get on their flanks, you understand me you mangy cur!" The man spat at a messenger.  
  
"Kill the rest, I've got the big guy," I ordered Smoit, and fired off a burst at the pair of guards standing behind the man. Soit's first shot brained the messenger and caught the big lugs attention.  
  
"You will burn for your deeds here, heretic!" I called, "The Emperor demands it!"  
  
Taking my challenge he charged at me while raising his Laspistol and dragging a warp twisted power sword behind himself. His shooting was easy to read though and nowhere near accurate enough to hit me while I was actively trying to dodge. Once he came close enough I swung my Heavy Bolter up and smashed the butt straight into his face.  
  
The traitor stumbled back dazed but I wasn't done. Continuing to use the butt of my Heavy Bolter I smashed his face from one side and then the other. Finally he stared up at me through cloudy eyes, his whole form still bent over to recover. I jammed the barrel of my weapon into his gut. "Sucks to be you." I pulled the trigger and his stomach was ripped to shreds. Two entirely separate pieces of his body from above and below my shot fell to the ground.  
  
The rest of the way out was even easier, though at least as bloody, as the enemy was demoralized from their losses and those that though they could ran for it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets an Inquisitor and gets attacked by a Possessed.

I stood in the middle of a hail of inaccurate Autogun fire as I carefully reloaded my Heavy Bolter. Surprisingly, considering the death raining around me, my mind was clear and I could focus on completing my simple task correctly rather than fumble it in panic. A few of the bullets managed to hit and leave scuff marks on my armor, but since it was painted silver in the first place they didn't stand out. Strangely the larger ones actually tickled though, and I was pretty sure that was my TTK spot activating to reduce the damage.  
  
Smoit was sensibly protecting my back from the few stragglers and had a nice metal shipping container between himself and the cluster-fuck before us.  
  
With a click the large drum clip locked into place and the weapon soon roared as it began to once more rain death on my adversaries. Unlike their ineffectual bullets, my rounds tore limbs from bodies, broke armor as it then exploded in the chests underneath and popped heads like water balloons. Truly, she was a magnificent weapon. I should probably give her a name at some point.  
  
While the unfortunate traitors ducked around crates and away from my line of fire they found themselves the target of the very people they themselves had been pinning down when I'd come up behind them. Lasers from the pilot siblings lanced out with decent accuracy mostly wounding their targets, often enough to remove them from the fight entirely. Railgun slugs simply ignored the carapace armor as they speared through their targets leaving long comparatively neat holes. Of course the Skitarii fired with near mechanical precision and each shot tore through organs, arteries or tendons and reduced their targets to members of the dead or dying. Last of all were Autogun bullets from someone I didn't know, aimed with such expert accuracy that despite their technical deficiency they proved no less deadly than any of the other weapons.  
  
By the time my Heavy Bolter ran dry of its latest clip the area had descended into an uneasy silence. Slowly the rest of my team appeared from behind their cover along with a tall man wearing curving armor very much in the same vein as what Smoit had to leave behind. Speaking of, the Rogue Trader made his way across the recent battlefield with surprisingly casual ease and shared a single manful hand-shake with the man in armor. "Inquisitor." He greeted. "Good of you to drop by." His voice showed no sign of humor but I couldn't help a slight smile.  
  
"Smoit." The Inquisitor returned the greeting but not the banter. He turned his very Tau-inspired helmet towards me and studied me for a moment before approaching. "Your companions tell me that your mission is to track me down. Why?"  
  
"The Magos was concerned that he hadn't heard from you recently." I told him. "I was sent to find you, and if necessary finish the mission of destroying the source of this jamming."  
  
"I see." He said and turned to look back towards the mountains. Three green orbs suddenly flew from his chest and into mine. It was as close to a quest completed screen as I was going to get, I supposed. "They've been using this camp extensively. I'd recommend we clear out the survivors and burn it down before their next patrol returns."  
  
"Next patrol?" Kevan asked.  
  
Smoit snorted and answered in the Inquisitor's stead, "The've got a small army set-up out here. This was one of their smaller bases. We counted over a thousand troops at the base of the Jamming Tower."  
  
Before anyone could react to that a high pitched screeching giggle cut through the air. From the sound it was still some distance away but its volume was increasing fast.  
  
"Pink Horror!" Inquisitor Fiach shouted and dove into cover. The rest of us weren't far behind.  
  
The sound of a thousand preteen fangirls discovering Inuyasha yaoi for the first time assaulted my ears and I bit my lip until it bled to distract me from the torturous sound. When it finally came into view I made the instant decision to  _never_ under  _any_  circumstances give myself perfect memory while I'm in this setting.  
  
A thousand tendrils dripped from the cylindrical bottom of what had once been the upper half of a human body. Presumably this was the priestling I'd murdered earlier because I recognized the horn pattern, but otherwise the  _thing_  twisting his body had left nothing recognizable. A giant arm that would have looked big on an Ogryn was its primary mode of transportation as it used the arm as an anchor while the body 'hopped' forwards. Otherwise it used the wiggling tendrils like centipede legs to crawl forwards with surprising speed. Its other arm had split in three, one bearing a large clawed hand, another gripping a Lasgun, while the third undulated about like an arm-shaped tentacle.  
  
I didn't hesitate in opening fire on it but my Bolter rounds were significantly less useful than they had been. The monstrosity's very form shifted to dodge my attacks while it's misshapen face only smiled wider and screeched louder. Verily it reminded me of the [true](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/32700000/Sephiroth-sephiroth-32755622-750-1000.jpg) [evil](http://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/Njc5WDQ3NA==/%24T2eC16NHJG!E9nm3o\)lNBQRqjSOPi!~~60_59.JPG?set_id=880000500F) of Sephiroth, and I was certain that it would be mere moments before my ears began to bleed.  
  
Autogun and laser fire joined the fray, followed soon after by Railgun slugs. One of the rounds caught it in the chest but it simply repaired the hole before waving its tendril arm at one of the Skitarii. Warp fire flooded the area and clung to the automaton's form, already melting and twisting flesh and implants. Even in the face of this unspeakably painful end the former human was stoic and kept firing.  
  
Laser blasts splashed against the creature's hide and it's giggle raised fiercely in pitch. It slammed its giant fist towards me in anger but I rolled to the side and filled the massive appendage with explosive rounds. A pair of Railgun slugs both pierced its misshapen face and the creature finally stumbled backwards. This time it raised two hilariously uneven arms to the heavens before a ball of purple plasma formed in an area roughly between its hands. All of us dove behind our cover but when the bolt flashed out it easily ignored those protections.  
  
Screaming filled the air as Farei stumbled and flailed about waving the charred husk of her left arm. Kaven didn't move, but I had to put that in the positive column since it proved he wasn't a Necron infiltrator. As to the Skitarii that was its actual target... I'd bury... I'd spread his... Yeah I'd make him a nice marker.  
  
I popped back up to let off a few more rounds when I realized that it was actually rather quiet besides for Farei's agonized screams. The creature was still and silent as it lay on the ground. It was also headless. I  _really_  thought deamons and by extension those they possessed didn't suffer from this kind of back-lash. To my surprise another two orbs left the misshapen corpse and came to me.  
  
The sound of an Autogun firing brought me back to my senses and I spun around to see the Inquisitor standing over Farei's now dead body. "Emperor Protect you and keep you by his side." My eyes roved from Fiach to Smoit and then to the last Servitor. Not exactly the kind of force I'd want to assault a facility protected by at least a thousand men.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor makes plans for assaulting the jamming tower.

She looked up at me, her wide, chocolate eyes pleading. Her legs were already broken, the Lasgun she'd been carrying far from reach. She was utterly helpless. There was a tattoo of a nine on her forehead where her helmet had concealed it. I tapped it with the barrel of my Bolt Pistol and fired.  
  
A taste I never wanted in my mouth fills the air. I don't even have to look as I aim into the nearby bush and fire a pair of rounds. Blood and organ matter paints the trees on the other side of the underbrush. "No. Just no."  
  
I took one last look at the mess I'd made of the patrol squad and shook my head. They'd been little enough challenge and killing them all hadn't done anything to address the building frustration in my gut.  _A thousand soldiers. In 40K in the middle of an active heresy? Make that a thousand soldiers and at least one command unit._  
  
Now that there was nobody around to hear I crashed through the brush with all the subtlety of an elephant. Thankfully it wasn't that far back to our makeshift camp, and about ten minutes later I broke into the clearing we'd set up in. Mostly it was just a handful of sleeping bags we'd liberated from the cultist camp and rope hammocks secured to trees. Sleeping on the ground didn't mix well with armor and none of us were willing to take ours off this far in enemy territory.  
  
Smoit was half-laying on his hammock drinking a bottle of brandy I didn't know he'd had. His armor now the curved lines of the Xeno-tech I'd only seen disassembled. Now that I could see it properly there were many differences between his and the Inquisitors. Frankly the Inquisitor was armored for a good battle but not heavy enough to shrug off fire. Smoit's on the other hand was light and lithe, much like the man himself. It let him keep his overall agility, but I wasn't sure it would be much more protection than the carapace armor he'd dropped for it.  
  
Inquisitor Fiach had the field analyzer I'd brought out and was kneeling in the dirt building a map with his finger and some rocks. He briefly turned his helmeted head towards me as I arrived, his optics unreadable, then nodded and returned to his work. Thus far he hadn't taken the helmet off in my presence. Perhaps I was reading too much into it but I don't think he much cared for my presence.  
  
The last person, for a rather broad definition of person, in our camp was the only surviving Skitarii. He just stood to the side and watched us with glowing orange eyes until given an order or we implied there had been one. It wasn't like he'd just stand there if we didn't order him to follow us as we'd leave, but unspoken commands had to be pretty obvious. I tried not to blame him for his infinite stoicism, that was mostly the lobotomy by irrational agents obsessed with logic coming through. That did not make it less creepy as fuck when it silently watched me trying to sleep, nor did it engender much trust.  
  
Our mission was too big to take on alone. The rewards too great to back out now. Still this was not a team looking toward the prize, so much as a few individuals who had agreed that they  _probably_  shouldn't shoot each other.  _Yet_.  
  
"We're getting close. The array is set up in a hanging valley on the largest mountain in the range. There's a cave network ahead that we can use to reach a point overlooking the target." Fiach stated catching all of our attention. "There are three check-points in the caves we'll have to clear. After that its more or less a straight shot until we reach the outer wall. The automated defenses there will tear us apart. Our only option is to climb down the lip of the mountain and come up from the waterfall."  
  
"Sounds difficult," I note.  
  
"Sounds Impossible," Smoit corrected with a snort.  
  
"Yes, that is why it will fall to you, Retributor, to accomplish this task. If you come up just within the inner wall you have a chance to avoid being seen and access to the targeting cogitators on that side. Destroy those and the turrets become useless on that side of the base. Do it quietly enough and they won't even be alerted to the danger. Once you've accomplished that goal scale the inner wall and kill the guards at the entry check-point in that area. We will then join you and assault the interior base a united force." Fiach instructed.  
  
I nodded. "Fine. We'll stay the night and go in the morning. I sure as shit won't be climbing around a cliff-face in the dark."  
  
"Of course," Fiach agreed neutrally.  
  
I trudged over to my hammock and got myself comfortable. While they may have fooled others, my perfect sight caught Smoit watching me out of the corner of his eye and the Inquisitor turning so he just barely had one optic on me. They were talking about something innocuous, where the bottle of brandy came from, but I couldn't shake an ominous feeling.  
  
 _One thousand soldiers, a command squad and one possible bullet to the back of the head,_  I enumerated my worries to myself again.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam saves some prisoners in a cave.

Cave fighting is hard, nasty, close range business. I  _loved_ it.  
  
I grabbed a man by the neck and dragged him in front of me as a volley of Autogun rounds impacted against his back. My bolt pistol barked with my reply shots. It was stable enough in my inhumanly strong hand that recoil was barely a factor. Wherever I aimed there were explosions of blood and gore.  
  
The other three gave occasional assistance, the two Railguns most helpful. I was our tank, smashing through their ranks like a boar with adamantium hide, It was only natural they played sniper and took out those who got a little too bold in their response.  
  
A laser blast from a Laspistol struck the leather covering my right upper arm and left a scorch mark along with the taste of burning chemicals. With some experience in a chemical laboratory I could probably recreate the chemical cocktail used to treat the leather just from that. I do my best to remember it for later. I put the thought aside as I turn to face the new threat but his heart has already been perforated twice over by Railgun fire.  
  
"For the Emperor!" I scream and fall on the last squad of traitors. In mere minutes only I remain. Well I suppose the three behind me did as well, but they'd kept out of the melee so I wasn't counting them.  
  
We were nearly out of the caves when one of the passageways tasted extremely strongly of people and habitation. I stopped and stared down the passage trying to make out where it led.  
  
"Oh, did you detect something?" Fiach asked.  
  
I was tempted to growl at the man. I knew that revealing my enhanced senses would get me in trouble, and he knew that I had abilities I didn't want to share. It would be a much easier detente to maintain if he didn't constantly poke the subject. But I had something this time that didn't require revealing everything or stalking off in a huff. "Footprints. Drag marks. They were dragging people into this cave. Why?"  
  
Fiach nodded and motioned for me to lead the way. The passage was a bit twisting and strangely empty of inhabitants considering what had attracted me in the first place. However it was only a few minutes of marching before we came on the source. It was a large room with a large cell packed full of prisoners. I ripped the pad-lock off the cage and we were briefly flooded with warm bodies, thanking us.  
  
"Hey!" I shouted, silencing the room. "Though you're free of your restraints you are not saved yet! Behind us lay dozens of traitors on patrol, and ahead of us lies the very heart of their operation and the means by which they have blocked our communication. Still The Emperor demands not only our passive faith but our active effort. With  _His_  aid I shall open a hole in the base's defenses and we shall fall upon them in all  _his_  fury! Now, to all who can yet stand and carry a weapon, The Emperor demands your faith! The Emperor demands your assistance! And most of all the Emperor demands  _vengeance_  against the scum that would DARE to impersonate his loyal servants!"  
  
I saw eyes looking up at me in fervor, far more than I expected. I'd frankly thought most would turn against me for asking more of them, but instead they seemed to eat up my exhortations.  
  
"Indeed!" Inquisitor Fiach suddenly added, removing his helmet for the first time in my presence. He was a decent enough looking man, hard edged and thin eyed. His head was fuzzy with newly growing hairs that suggested it had been shaved clean only a few days ago. "There is no higher calling than ending the threat of these Heretics present. Death to the Heretic!"  
  
"Death to the Heretic!" The crowd chanted back.  
  
"We shall cleanse this valley! For the Emperor!" I called out.  
  
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" They roared.  
  
I caught the Inquisitor's considering gaze for the remaining moment before he returned his helmet to its proper place. Frankly I still had no idea what he thought of me, but I felt that this mission could push him over the edge. If we pulled it all off, I might just be useful enough to keep around.  
  
To my surprise three orbs flew out of a nearby wall into my chest. I was briefly shocked and confused before I recalled the time. My eggs should be hatching right around now. Probably just did. Unfortunately they'd have to fend for themselves but they stopped being helpless rather quickly. I'd just have to count on that protecting them. For now I had to keep my head in the game or risk losing it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ROB visits Sam while she'd sneaking up on the camp.

"Hi!"  
  
I almost jumped in surprise. It was a good thing I didn't considering I was attached to a cliff-face by only my feet at the time. Instead I turn to the strange voice to see a living copy of Yoruichi Shihoin standing in mid-air a few feet away. "Whaa?"  
  
"You don't recognize me? I'm hurt! And after all the gifts I gave you," The cat-like woman falsely complains.  
  
"ROB." I state as I figure out the hint. Damn. For a second I thought I'd actually gotten some supernatural heavy-hitter back-up. "Can this wait?"  
  
"We~ll, it could. But then it probably shouldn't. You see... How do I put this gently... What's up there is an Menos Grande and you're random Shinigami Number 12, you get what I'm saying?" ROB smiled sweetly as she informed me of the problem.  
  
"So... I may be good against mortals, but I'm not ready for the boss up there?" I make sure we're clear.  
  
"Right! Or at least, you aren't ready yet. You  _could_  be ready though. I mean, 10 whole points is a lot of fire-power." She explains.  
  
I give them a flat look, "I'm saving for War God. Why would I do anything besides save for War God? If I can't handle what's up there, fine. Fuck the plan, I'll blow the jammer itself and get out, let someone else take on the uber-deamon or whatever it is."  
  
"I don't think you're understanding me, Sammi-kun. You go up there, you  _will_  die." ROB states with a serious look. A chill rolls up my spine and I can't help a thick swallow. Then they relax and smile again, "Of course you can just run away. A bit of trouble for this whole Shadow Play you got going, but then the jamming will still be up. Besides you're strong enough now to take on most of your merely mortal opposition. Except for Exterminatus or the Grey Knights there really isn't anything the Inquisition can throw at you and kill you fully dead."  
  
It sounded tempting. Incredibly tempting. Fuck tempting, it's exactly what I should be doing and I damn well knew it. Only now the faces of the former prisoners were flashing through my mind. Sure I expected them all to die horrifically during the assault anyways, but that was a whole other thing to letting them down after  _I_  was the one that inspired them to fight. Why was it so much worse to let them down than lead them to certain agony and death?  
  
I sunk my fingers and toes into the wall of the cliff-face so I could conserve my limited chakra. "I..."  
  
ROB held up her hand. "No, no. You've got your reasons and your motivations. No need to explain them to  _me_. And besides, if you upgrade poorly you might still die and I'm not going to save you from that. No, I was just giving you a friendly warning this time because I appreciate how you're trying to play it smart. Its just not right in this instance. Now when you want to upgrade just focus on the orbs and imagine yourself calling them back out, the rest is pretty self-explanatory."  
  
I frown as they disappear as quickly and silently as they'd come. There were only two builds I could reasonably choose from to my way of thinking. One was a probable but not guaranteed increase of immediate power and a guaranteed explosion in long term power. The other was an instant increase of my combat abilities from 'walking light vehicle' to 'warship-grade fire power'... Fuck taking the first would be making  _the same damn mistake._  I know what's defined by doing the same thing and expecting different results.  
  
I focus on the orbs and slowly draw them towards the surface. Just before they break the skin I suddenly  _[know](http://i.imgur.com/2oQfs6l.jpg) _ every option and how to select which one I want. A moment later I have to reach out and catch the hand-gun I'd chosen before it falls. Even knowing what it was, I had to admit it certainly didn't look like much.  
  
The weapon was reminiscent of a Accatran Pattern Laspistol, a rather common model, except that the barrel was cut off and the back was beveled rather than chamfered. I'd chosen to color it after what I wanted my future unit colors to be, cream with burnt orange trim. On the back of the pistol was a pattern of glowing white lights, one white circle in the center with crosshairs radiating out in the four cardinal directions and another set of cross-hairs set radiating out on the diagonals.  
  
When I resumed walking up the wall I said the most iconic line of the character whose weapon I'd copied.  _Nothing at all._


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes out the jammer but there's an unexpected complication before she can call it a mission complete.

Even with my warning and my newly minted divine weapon, I wasn't quite willing to just blow the jamming tower and run like hell. Instead I followed the original plan and quietly disabled the targeting cogitator. From my position behind it and because the camp was built on ground that naturally sloped down towards the river running through the valley, I could see almost the entire camp from my position.  
  
The jamming tower was a strange sight to behold. I'd seen signal towers before in my life and structurally it wasn't all that far off. Of course none of the signal towers in Arizona had disemboweled bodies strung across their beams at every few feet. They also didn't emit an aura of pure unrestrained malice onto the world or have the heads of dogs randomly warping out from various points along them to bark their hate and pain at an uncaring world.  
  
As soon as the turrets began tracking inwards I slipped out of my hiding place towards somewhere they wouldn't be able to see. Soon enough a pair of wall-mounted Heavy Stubbers began to rain death on the hapless cultists that had counted on them for protection. Screams of pain and anger filled the air and a few industrious fellows already had poorly aimed rockets flying for the turrets.  
  
A cry of "For the Emperor!" rang across the valley and our conscripts, to be fair many of them had been actual PDF soldiers before their capture, charged down from several cave entrances on the side of the malfunction.  
  
I made my way to what I'd already identified as a small weapon storage area, it was a prefab that strangely wouldn't have looked that out of place in a trailer park back home. There were a couple nervous cultists manning the location but I easily evaded their weapons fire and broke one's back with a well placed kick and then snapped the other's neck. Realistically there wasn't much here I needed, but it I still grabbed a couple shaped charges, a belt of frags and a belt of Krak grenades. Unfortunately no melta-grenades or I'd have been all over that. There was also a very nice knife that fit nicely in my armor's boot holster. Sadly it was just a knife, nothing special or empowered about it. On the way out I dropped one of the Krak grenades, since there was no point in letting them keep the ammunition stores.  
  
Before the storage had a chance to blow I lobbed all of the frag grenades towards various defensive positions around the base. Super strength, and TTK made certain things just  _too_  easy.  
  
The storage area went up at almost the exact same moment that the Inquisitor lead the conscripts through the gate in the outer wall. When the cultists all turned to stare at the sudden explosion my frags went off in a chain. A dozen and a half individuals died from the shrapnel and explosions, twice that were injured. Their formations descended into a form of chaos they didn't worship and when our conscripts broke the main gate they fell on them in a frenzy. Oh it was still _maybe_  three dozen conscripts against an army in the hundreds, but at least it wasn't a simple slaughter.  
  
Realizing it was time to get this show on the road I sprinted up to the tower and planted my charges carefully on ground by the base that hand't been corrupted. It'd be less boom, but I didn't have to worry about physics defying hound heads eating them and making things weird. To make up the difference I threw the entire belt of Krak grenades straight at the support furthest from my charges. I finally slipped behind cover just before everything went boom.  
  
The explosion was deafening and soon followed by a ground shaking crash as the tower had overbalanced and landed hanging off the cliff-face. I leaned out to assess the damage I'd done just as the last anchor snapped from the strain and the whole damn thing slid out over the side of the mountain and fell. "Well they won't be fixing that up anytime soon," I said with a whistle of appreciation. All mission objectives accomplished, I could now grab the Inquisitor and run if things got too bad. I smirked in satisfaction as I basked in the glow of a job well done.  
  
And then one of the bunkers between the far wall and the damaged tower base opened its garage doors. My heart stopped at the sight of the lone figure marching out of the building with an air of intense annoyance. I cursed that the garage was empty of vehicles. Couldn't the finale have been something nice and simple like a Baneblade? Maybe a Bloodthirster? Two of them? Anything but...  
  
"AHRIMAN!" Fiach screamed in apoplectic rage.  
  
 _Yeah,_  I thought while I tried to get my spine to recover from its gelatinous metaphorical transformation,  _That Guy._


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's battle with Ahriman continues.

"It would seem I baited my trap  _too_ well. Or perhaps there are simply so many of you maggots feasting on the corpse of the Emperor that I can't help but step on more than I intend." If he'd shouted, if he'd raged, if he'd gave even a hint of his annoyance, I'd be convinced he was a Saturday morning cartoon villain. But he didn't. He spoke in a calm and even tone, as any other might state a fact. The sky is blue on this planet, the grass is a bit more yellow but still mostly green, and he was going to kill us all.  _Facts_.  
  
I raised my divine weapon and dialed it up to as high as I felt I could go without threatening the whole mountain. When I aimed it him he brought up a shield of Warp-fire. I smirked. I shouldn't have smirked, really, this man was a fucking Space Marine under all that researcher of mysteries bullshit.  
  
The beam exited the barrel of my gun and threw me backwards over a crate. It impacted the Warp-fire and simply cut a cylindrical hole all the way through and kept going. Unfortunately Ahriman wasn't an idiot and as soon as I'd smirked he'd started to dodge. It wasn't enough to save his staff or the arm attached, but he was about 90% less dead than I was really hoping for.  
  
With a roar of indignation he threw his remaining arm forwards and launched a fucking tsunami of Warp-fire at me. I ran as fast as I could while the GBE was recharging, infinite ammo did nothing to improve the firing delay. Cultists trapped on my side of the camp wailed in fear and then screeched in pain. Finally the charge was high enough to fire a low-power beam and I threw myself to the ground and fired into the flames. A perfect circle was snuffed out of existence and the flames washed around me without touching.  
  
Seeing the battlefield again I could see the Inquisitor and his group bogged down by more of those possessed cultists. The last Skitarii took one out in a single round but Ahriman just casually threw a bolt of warp infused plasma at the cyborg. They had no chance to dodge and even worse as rather than instantly reduce them to slag the heat wrapped around them and burned them, fusing man and metal and causing random mutations to break out before melting further. He would suffer untold agony until it finally killed him and it certainly seemed to be in no hurry.  
  
I lifted the GBE to fire again but as soon as I noticed the pink glow forming on my arm I focused all touch telekinesis against it and sprinted for the cover of a half-melted pre-fab. When the twisted fires of the warp erupted on my arm I couldn't help but scream in agony. The metal of the gauntlet was fusing with my skin and twisting the mesh work of metal under it in ways that cut deeply into the arm itself.  
  
As soon as I was in cover I tried several ways to put it out. Punching into the earth did nothing to quench the flames, directing essence to repair it was equally useless. Apparently I was resistant enough to prevent its spread and keep it from utterly destroying the arm but it was still slowly mutating it into a clawed monstrosity. Finally I pulled out my Bolt Pistol, set it against the crook of my arm and fired.  
  
"AAUGH!" I screamed as the arm came off in a spray of blood. The GBE was still clutched in my dismembered hand but it was merely ignoring the Warp-flames as though they were nothing important. This time essence quickly closed off the wound, allowing me to remain combat effective despite its loss.  
  
It suddenly occurred to me that I had one more surprise advantage. He didn't know I could call the GBE to me from across a battlefield. Unfortunately that meant being seen for another moment or two in order to make him think I can't use it anymore. I made up my mind and holstered my Bolt Pistol and then awkwardly got the Heavy Bolter set up for firing with my left hand.  
  
"Taste the Emperor's Fury!" I screamed as I pelted forwards at an angle across the battlefield firing my Heavy Bolter all the way. Ahriman did an admirable job dodging the bolter rounds but he wasn't quite able to dodge all of them. One of his horns was broken off while his remaining gauntlet took a heavy hit. He replied with fire from his Bolt Pistol, I made very certain to duck around them as they came. While my chakra and TTK would be more resistant to a wound that wasn't intentional, blowing my arm off in a single shot proved they were anything but harmless to me. Finally I made it into a small depression hidden from his sight by the bulk of the tower's concrete base.  
  
I let the bulk of the Heavy Bolter drop back to its hanging position and focused on the feeling of 'holding' my GBE. In an instant it reappeared in my hand and I smiled. Ahriman may be out of sight but he hadn't moved that much during the battle. Rather than bother diving out of cover I just aimed at his last known location and shot straight through the multiple feet of concrete between us while the weapons recoil threw me backwards and into the river.  
  
The shock of suddenly being in water was huge and the water itself was fucking feezing. I barely recalled to grab the riverbed and stop myself before I'd come up on the waterfall. As strange as it was, without any good anchoring I found myself too weighted down to easily swim, but the current too strong to simply sink. As my time stuck in the water increased and the desperate need to breathe became greater my essence began to dump itself into my lungs. In the end I wasn't truly certain  _what_  they'd done to my lungs but I knew on instinct that it wouldn't matter to me if I started gulping water or even filled my lungs with it entirely. Anything nasty in the river would be filtered out, the oxygen would be used and everything else would somehow find a way to my intestines and eventually exit my system.  
  
It was less than ideal, but it meant I wouldn't drown so I took it.  
  
After a surprisingly long few minutes I managed to muscle my way out of the river and back onto dry land. The very first thing I checked was to see if Ahriman was dead.  
  
If I had been wanting to know if my shot was good the answer was yes, good but not great. It'd taken half the helmet and all of the shoulder of his remaining arm. Not the best hit but a fatal one. Only in this case not fatal at all.  
  
Armor empty of anything but ashes slumped to the ground. Its form was slowly shifting back towards that of a 'normal' traitor marine. Considering this was the Thousand Sons they only had one kind of 'normal' marine, the very Rubric soldiers originally devised by Ahriman himself.  
  
"Cheating Bastard." I can't help but say aloud. A shout of distress catches my attention and I quickly fire a low power shot, disintegrating a possessed cultist just before it could pounce on Smoit. Looking across the rest of the battlefield I realized that I'd actually killed the last one. Any cultists still alive were running for the hills and the caves, but they were few. Between Ahriman, myself, the possessed, and our rabble of fanatics the once significant army of cultists had been thinned down to stragglers. Our rabble paid the price to a man, but there were no signs they'd even tried to run.  
  
"Pardi. The Inquisitor," Smoit shouted catching my attention. I looked at him and then to where he was pointing. Fiach was lying in a slowly growing pool of blood and from the look of his legs had taken severe warp burns along them. We both ran to his side, though at the moment I think I was doing it more just to have something to do.  
  
Smoit took off the Inquisitor's helmet and Fiach looked up at me with genuine joy in his eyes despite his injuries. "I admit... When the Assassinorum proposed this set-up, this  _test_  mission, I was skeptical. And when I saw your poor acting I thought they had been trying to pass on to us yet another mindless killer. But the way you played the Skitarii! I doubt the Magos has any idea you ever knew us. Cultivate him, he'll be an excellent resource, the kind you can always lean on because you hold them by the neck forever. Then when you inspired those prisoners! And the way you handled Ahriman's presence... Only a pity the heretical goat-fucker isn't truly dead."  
  
I stared down at him in stunned disbelief as my mind tried to make sense of his words. Of course I'd slipped into a practiced non-expression so I guess I probably seemed fairly stoic to him. Even stranger than the words was the tone and the energy. The  _excitement_  despite the fact that he was literally dying a painful death before my eyes.  
  
"It's not official yet. Not until Orchid weighs in on the mission. Remember to keep up your act for the Magos, Orchid will know so don't be afraid to lie to her face on this one. Still, I think once she hears Smoit's report she'll be all in favor of this." He reached onto his breast-plate and tapped a button that opened a compartment to reveal his Inquisitorial Rosette. With a shaky hand he gathered the heavy adamantium icon and held it out to me. "Welcome to the Ordo Xenos, _Inqusitor_  Pardi."  
  
I took the Icon and held it in front of my face. It probably wouldn't be mine, they were all heavily encoded to work only for their specific owner. Nonetheless it was a symbol. A sign that I'd been deemed worthy of holding my own. Fiach expired with a smile on his lips and joy in his eyes. Smoit walked away to find the highest point in the valley so he could signal for extraction.  
  
I walked into one of the few remaining prefabs and slammed the door behind me. As soon as it was shut I laughed. Not a full, aching belly laughter of joy but the horrible soul rending laughter of rampant hysteria. I laughed and laughed until I could barely breath and then my body compensated and I could laugh some more. I laughed until even my super-human muscles ached. And then I collapsed.  
  
"ROB you magnificent  _bastard_." I whispered before finally slipping into a dreamless sleep.  
  
A/N: Remember this was a reincarnation not a drop in. There really was  _a_  Sam Pardi who had a life before the MC took their place. This is the kind of shit that happens when you can't remember what that life actually  _was_... And when your ROB is a troll. But then that tends to go without saying.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Smoit check out the base and find something interesting.

"We'll have a Valkyrie out here to bring us back to Command within the hour. Inquisitor Orchid caught a saboteur working in the air crews and manged to follow the lead back to the Chaos Cult in the city." Smoit informed me after I'd woke from my brief nap.  
  
I nodded and kept walking. He fell into line beside me as I approached the bunker Ahriman had come out of. "Are you planning on leaving now that the Inquisitor has died?" I asked.  
  
He shrugged, "As much as I appreciate the life of a trader, the adventure I've found with the Fiach is hard to pass up on. The way I see it, he had no apprentice and he gave you his rosette. That's as clear a sign as any that he wouldn't mind you being his successor. Of course I know my way around most of his contacts and have the experience with Xenos you'll need. Might as well join your retinue... If you'll have me, of course."  
  
"Of course," I agreed instantly. Smoit was an experienced captain with his own ship. His value to me and my potential plans was inestimable.  
  
As I walked I took the time to really think over my new status. Oddly, I found myself liking the title.  
  
One of my own internal problems with the 40K universe is that its fluff really plays up just how incredibly shitty most of humanity really is. The Imperium represents a broad set of core values and many of those I find innately repulsive. They also prop up a system that is corrupt, backwards, cruel and sometimes downright terrifying. In short, I hate these people and kind of want all of them to just die. On the other hand I've always had something of White Knight complex. No matter how hard I try I just can't help but envision the faceless and mostly innocent masses who have done nothing to earn my ire or getting eaten by 'Nids.  
  
To be an Inquisitor gives me freedom to act, and the freedom to make my own judgement calls. Especially in the Ordo Xenos I can focus heavily on the Orkz and the 'Nids. Track down Genestealer cults and assassinate Warbosses. Or it can be Dark Eldar pirates, or another Eldar trying to pull some ridiculously over-complicated plan to stop an ancient evil... Usually at everyone else's expense. I'm not so sure about Necrons but eventually I'll have fuuinjutsu to help lock down their more interesting effects and make them stay off, if not dead.  
  
The point is, I can help protect the innocent masses without actually having to put up with their shit. I'd be encouraged to continue my Shadow Plays, build up information networks, and seek out new advantages. The involvement of the Assassinorum in my selection even gave me a much better cover story for my genetic mutations, one that would extend to my daughters as well. Simply put I was just yet another 'failed' cloning experiment intended to produce more Astartes. In this way I fell under the heading of Replicae rather than mutant which made me a valuable tool in the Emperor's hand rather than an abomination against his teachings. My daughters as well would benefit since I would simply state that I was made with Archeotech and am thus uniquely capable of successfully cloning myself.  
  
With the Magos support I could easily get some nutrient tanks installed on Smoit's ship. Having proper facilities would allow me to grow daughters in weeks rather than years. Protected by my status as Inquisitor and theirs as Replicae, there would be little anyone could do to stop me from building the small army I'd need to carry out my larger plans.  
  
I was drawn from my thoughts as I walked into a large room of distinctly non-Imperial make. Still human, in fact  _more_  human to my eye with the simple drab colors and geometric construction. At first I wasn't certain what I was looking at but then lights began to activate across the building. And suddenly I very much understood why Ahriman would want to personally study the place even if the rather anemic local cult couldn't properly desecrate it.  
  
Smoit and I were standing on a catwalk that led out into a room longer than the valley it was hidden under. To either side of us were hulls of ships that I could instantly recognize as Submarines, though significantly advanced and with far more deck guns than I'd ever remembered seeing on one.  _Much_  more important, though, were the countless cranes and welding robots resting on jigs above, below and to the sides of the mighty vessels. This was a full-service dry-dock filled with Archeotech and hosting two prime examples of said technology bent towards the purpose of warfare. The ships would be scrapped of course, and once they could be made space-worthy all of the construction tools would probably be moved to a space dock, but once that was completed this planet could become a major source of Imperial naval hardware overnight.  
  
"Can you imagine the possibilities?" Smoit was gushing as I came from my own thoughts enough to hear him.  
  
"Yes. Mek-Boss Buzzgob could build a fleet great enough for Garaghak's Waaagh to threaten the entire Segmentum with these tools." I state with a frown.  
  
Smoit looked at me, then back out at the edifice of technology. "So you mean to destroy them then?" He seemed resigned, obviously well aware that the weapon I'd mysteriously acquired would be more than adequate to destroying the facility.  
  
I shook my head, "No. I am most interested to see what the Magos can make of this discovery. In fact I'm planning to make an order of it so that he may work in peace. No, I'm not going to destroy it. I'm going to kill Buzzgob and probably reclaim Magdelene IX. If we can puncture Garaghak's illusion of invulnerability we can attract the Imperial Guard back to the sector and fortify the planet appropriately."  
  
Smoit frowned, "You think you will succeed where the Raven Guard failed?"  
  
I smiled, "There is nothing too large to be moved when one has the appropriate leverage."  
  
Just before I turned to leave a green orb came from each submarine and one from the ceiling of the facility and flew into my chest. Great. Walk into a fucking building and I get points. Survive, at the cost of an arm, going toe to toe with the shade of one of the greatest Chaos Sorcerers in the galaxy and get shit all. Which reminded me that I'd need to regrow my arm soon... Just as soon as I could come up with a good reason for why I got it back.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Smoit report their success to the Magos.

"When it comes to the Magos you'll be doing the talking," I tell Smoit. "Just tell him that you've been in contact with Fiach's successor and that I've been conscripted into their retinue. The major concern is getting him working on that Archeotech, but make certain he knows we'll be expecting some significant upgrades to your ship."  
  
Smoit nodded, already familiar with the plan. "You know I can handle that meeting alone. Lady Orchid is likely to want to talk to you immediately."  
  
I think about it, but as important as he'd seemed the Magos wasn't going to be dealing with me directly anytime soon. It was better all around if he dealt with Smoit. Being a trader, Smoit also lent the proceedings an aura of... business as usual if I had to put a name to it. If we were to take advantage of his willingness to bend the rules it would need to seem as though nothing particularly special was actually going on. "Yes, that will work."  
  
Our Valkyrie landed a few minutes later and we trooped down the ramp and out onto the landing pad. I immediately recognized the Magos, his domed head making it difficult to confuse him for anyone else, where he stood to one side with two more traditionally armed Servitors at his back. We angled ourselves towards him, even if I wasn't meeting with him I had still been hired for a job. For this part I took the lead.  
  
"Magos. Unfortunately Inquisitor Fiach perished in battle with the Forces of Ruin. However a member of his retinue survived and assures me this is not as great a set-back as it first appears," I tell him.  
  
His optics regard me for a moment and then turn to Smoit. "Explain."  
  
"The Inquisitor's apprentice has already stepped up to take his place. Though they can't be here right now they are very interested in this business coming to an amicable conclusion." Smoit expertly returned. "They've also taken the Retributor into their retinue, however they understand that this has cost you a valuable agent. In return they are willing to give you the Inquisitions backing to become the primary custodian of an Archeotech site discovered during our mission."  
  
The Magos regarded me again for a few seconds and then looked back to Smoit. "It is of no concern. I have little use for another agent. Your Inquisitor's offer is gracious and gratefully accepted." He was silent for a long moment but finally spoke, "It has been many years since I last felt emotion, that the first to overcome my conditioning is anticipation is a pleasant surprise."  
  
Five orbs danced out from the Magos chest and into mine. I wanted to smirk but ruthlessly suppressed the urge.  
  
"Now, Retributor, I believe you have a report to make to Inquisitor Orchid while I finish negotiations with our friend," Smoit states in the tone of an order.  
  
I nod and turn to enter the tower proper, my destination the habitation level. As I walk away I realize I never actually got the Magos name... Ah well, another detail for Smoit to handle.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wraps up the last of her business on Kogal.

Inquisitor Orchid was a slight woman, but curvy. It was a fact she was very aware of as her light armor was distributed so that it showed it off to good effect. There was even a cleavage window, which probably gave her a significant advantage in her primary battlefield.  
  
Behind her stood an  _actual_  Sister of Battle, holding a Halberd so blessed even  _I_  could feel it. My sense of taste was feeding me probably more information than they would have liked since I could taste the aftermath of recent sex on each of them. They were professional enough, though, not to give any outward sign of a relationship. If that had left any doubt as to their sexual orientations, the way they were undressing me with their eyes left no doubt. Fiach and Smoit had spoiled me for company that could completely resist my pheromones.  
  
The last member of her retinue was a Stormtrooper who even now wore his full armor. He was behind me though, leaning against a wall and listening to our conversation. From his taste he hadn't had any part in their activities.  
  
"An interesting tale. Had I not heard from Smoit I would think you were embellishing to impress me," The Inquisitor stated. "However he was quite effuse in his statements. A shade of Ahzek Ahriman..."  
  
I tasted someone new at that moment. They weren't close but their vitals had suddenly spiked allowing my to taste their fear. Even so I carefully did not look at the door to the bedroom they were hiding in.  
  
"The Rosette?" She asked, holding out her hand.  
  
I carefully removed it from my armor's storage and handed it to her.  
  
"This will be returned to Terra." She held out a hand to the Sister of Battle and a new, 'blank' rosette, was placed in it. It was then held out to me in offering. "You'll need to stop by Mars to get it customized at some point, but this is now yours."  
  
I took it from her and while looking at it found I actually appreciated the simplicity. Just a stylized letter 'I' with three bars behind the middle and a skull dead center. Three orbs jump out of it and into my chest. "Thank you."  
  
"You'll be cursing me soon enough," She laughed. "Now there were a few plans before things got to this point. The Assassinorum was going to foot the bill to get you a light cruiser. However with Fiach's untimely death he left behind an _Inquisitorial Black Ship_ , the _Aerium Ferrum_ , that he'd had modified and upgraded for his purposes. It's still in dry-dock due to its most recent upgrade. Normally you'd be too junior to command an actual Black Ship but with the Assassinorum willing to pay for its upkeep and potential repairs it's been decided to let you have it."  
  
"I'll make good use of it, I assure you," I tell her but she just waves my words away as unnecessary.  
  
"The local Ork threat has been mostly dealt with for the moment, and we've secured the voluntary cooperation of one of the local Guard regiments, the 556th, to give you some starting troops." Orchid smiled. "From here the rest is up to your own ability and ingenuity. Good luck, Inquisitor Pardi."  
  
I nod and recognizing the dismissal for what it was quickly leave the room. While I was now top of the overall Imperial food chain, I was bottom of the Inquisitors without the advantages normally given to even the greenest of their membership. On the other hand I clearly had some rather impressive support from the Assassinorum and a solid plan for how to go about building my reputation and personal power. Now I just needed to get everything set and finally get off this damn depressing planet.  
  
\---  
  
It was a bit of a long drive out of the city and back into the forest. Seeing the faces of my daughters, now in the form of impressively dexterous toddlers, was entirely worth it. I'd already worked out a cover story among my ship that they were test subjects of a new rapid growth treatment. My closest assets would have to get used to my interest in engineered life-forms quickly and the girls would make a wonderful acid-test.  
  
\---  
  
Smoit's ship, the Sword Frigate  _Swiftly Dancing_ , was long overdue for some serious upgrades. A few of its laser batteries were replaced with what essentially boiled down to heavily upgraded Macro-cannons using a combination of superior Imperial power management technology and the Tau's more advanced, and miniaturized, Railgun designs to make them pack a much greater punch than anything else that would fit the slot. The shields were upgraded as well using some xeno-tech energy couplings to draw power away from some of the forgotten technology within the vessel. Overall it now was more than a match for a similar class of vessel especially their less well maintained pirate versions.  
  
The Aerium Ferrum didn't get out of void-dock as quickly as it could since I had them take one of the small cargo areas and install two dozen individual nutrient tanks as well as the much larger tanks necessary to store the basic materials that fed the nutrient tanks. It was also more convenient to have the vessel docked as we loaded the equipment I'd managed to wheedle my way into.  
  
It turns out that Sisters of Battle were more than willing to believe that I'd tracked down their squad's murderer who in the cover story was Ahriman. This meant the armor I'd been wearing had faced Ahriman himself in battle and come out victorious. It was almost embarrassingly easy to convince them that a squad of Seraphim armor they had in storage was worth the now semi-holy armor. I even got to keep the Heavy Bolter since it was nothing special outside of being blessed halfway to Terra like all SoB gear.  
  
Giving one of the armors to the Magos, along with Fiach's armor, resulted in a cost-effective power armor alternative to the difficult to acquire, at least without raising questions, Adepta Sororitas gear. The result looked rather like the attached images, but of course with skulls on the left shoulders and knees and an aquila across the upper chest where a cleavage window might have been. And of course with a backpack to hold the power-supply with attached thrusters to mimic the jump capabilities of a Seraphim. All of them included neural interfaces, more because the Magos had no idea how to build a power armor suit without them than anything intentional, so I'd actually took one for a test drive.  
[Armor Source](http://www.wall321.com/Military/Armored/blondes_weapons_yamashita_shunya_armor_anime_boys_simple_background_swords_white_background_132188) | [Helmet Source](http://quixel.se/usermanual/quixelsuite/doku.php?id=ddo_samples)

  
Overall it wasn't bad. But actually being able to feel all the los-tech in the armor meant it was like driving a Honda after a while spent only driving a Ferrari. The difference in true quality was significant, but it was still head and shoulders above Stormtrooper gear. I ordered two hundred of them for a first run, all painted in cream and burnt orange though I let the skulls and such details remain black.  
  
My last bit of requisition was a bionic arm. To the Magos knowledge it had been commissioned by a local noble family a few thousand years ago and then sold for a pittance after the family finally died out entirely. As far as he knew it was a bit of a one trick-pony, capable of building up an electrical charge that based on the user's will ranged anywhere from taser-touch to a few moments of Sith lightning. Of course once I had it plugged in I knew that was only the most obvious functionality. The hand could magnetize to hold things better, fire off a directed EMP pulse, or shock the user in case of low life-signs like a defibrillator. It also built up several natural chemicals like dopamine, serotonin and epinephrine to help the user quickly manage their mood in an emergency.  
  
The main reason I'd chosen it was because it required almost no alteration to my brand new armor's gauntlet. Just an insulated opening in the center of the palm to let the current pass through unmolested without rebounding back into the gauntlet.  
  
Oh and I finally got a fucking helmet.  
  
\---  
  
I looked around the small cargo bay at the many nutrient vats. My first three daughters were wandering around looking up at the clear cylinders in awe. Inside each of them a fetal form was growing swiftly inside a clear egg with a gelatinous shell. With only a few changes I'd been able to adjust their growth time dramatically. In two weeks all twenty four of them would be full-grown.  
  
Satisfied I left my daughters behind as I turned and marched towards the bridge. It was time to leave Kogal at last. Next stop, Magdelene IX... Warp permitting.


	27. Interlude: Mantifrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam watches her first teams forming.

One of those oft understated things about the 40K universe is just how slow it is to get anywhere by the standards of most Space Opera settings. The Warp is extremely useful at cutting multi-light year trips down to mere days. However the Imperium has no means of in-system FTL. So while leaving Kogal's orbit was the work of mere hours, actually making it out of the Mantifrey System's planetary orbits and outer debris field took almost three weeks, though admittedly we weren't pushing that hard. Long enough for a single birthing of my daughters and an additional half-week of drilling from a few hard-cussing Guard and Marine drill sergeants.  
  
I myself didn't have any military training. My experience as a dancer and some hobby-shooting had held me in good stead with super-human powers backing them up. None of this taught one how to work in a unit and take orders well. Thankfully they took to the training with ease. This was in large part thanks to the 'Waaagh' upgrade I'd taken. While it hadn't done much for me as a lone adventurer, to my daughters it gave squads bordering on preternatural cooperation. They couldn't psychically transmit orders, but they could understand complex instructions from body-language and a single barked word. When it came time to focus fire they all shifted fire at the same moment, and when it came to firing for effect they never shot the same targets as their sisters.  
  
Even better, and I could feel this one effecting me, all of the upgrades taken from Ork essence became increasingly more effective while in range of the field. I was tentatively naming the effect 'Spirit'. In any case, the harder my daughters were stuck in the stronger they'd be and the faster their reactions.  
  
They'd barely earned the right to train in actual armor and with the weapons they would be using rather than cheap and replaceable autoguns when we finally transition to the warp. As each squad walked out for training they were a sight to behold. Their armor was in matte colors, light enough to walk through golden wheat fields unseen or crawl through snow with little sign of their presence so long as they covered the skulls. Still it was new enough to almost shine.  
  
Three four person squads were heavy weapons specialists. Two fire-and-drop Krak Missile Launchers, a Melta Grenade and a couple Frag Grenades were standard issue to all three squads. Two squads were armed with mixed Heavy Bolters or Heavy Flamers and the last squad with Melta-guns. Their jump capabilities, though limited by the weight of their equipment, made them especially mobile for heavy weapons users. The intention was for them to make chakra-assisted jumps to initially get air-borne and then jet the rest of the way.  
  
Two squads of six represented the actual tactical squads. One squad was better equipped for ranged engagements. All of them were armed with Godwyn-De'az Pattern Bolters, the same as used by the Sororitas, however the Magos set up a line to produce custom flechette ammunition with a comparatively small adamantine rod sticking part of the way into the explosive chamber. The aerodynamic veins increase its range and the explosion of the round accelerates the rod forwards like a secondary bullet allowing limited cover penetration. It cost a great deal of space for the explosive charge so they'd be less effective against heavy armor but such was a trade-off I was willing to make. Of course they all carried Bolt Pistols and Chainswords in case of close combat. The other was more simply armed with Eviscerators, the Chainsword equivalent of a great-sword, or held a regular Chainsword with a Bolt Pistol in the off-hand.  
  
I was confident they'd be a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. The barking of my drill sergeants only increased that confidence. This was also the last group I could outfit so magnanimously. Astartes level equipment was expensive and heavily controlled. From here on they'd be using our new Kogal Pattern Railguns and Mini-guns as their primary ranged armaments. It wouldn't effect the close combat group much since Eviscerators were cheap as dirt and Bolt Pistols were much more freely available than their larger brothers.  
  
I made my way up to the bridge. Mostly I tried to avoid the place as the ship's navigator was an all-too-tempting target to simply nom on the essence of. From a purely pragmatic view, I could pilot the ship just as well once I had his essence or birth a line of daughters specifically specialized for such things. Sadly this would likely turn the crew against me and while I could kill them all, I couldn't do so without raising some very tough questions.  
  
"Inquisitor," the vessel's captain, Heinrich Halle, greeted me. He had an excellent professional mien, but I could still sense his slight dislike of me. I was okay with that, nothing wrong with not-liking me as long as he followed orders.  
  
"Captain Halle. How long until we reach the Kastorel system?" I asked.  
  
"We expect a journey of two days, Inquisitor. The system has far less of a debris field than this one, so we should be able to exit the warp and slip behind the shadow of Kastorel's furthest planetoid in short order." Halle reported.  
  
I mentally added roughly a month to the current date, accounting for the typical temporal difference of warp travel. Unfortunately the Harakoni Warhawks would probably be long since pushed off the planet from their attempted invasion. A traditional planetary invasion was off the table entirely then. The difficulty of going in like Special Ops wasn't accomplishing the missions, it was going to be finding targets critical enough to cause any real damage to such a teeming mass of Orkz.  
  
On the other hand it was supposedly Buzzgobs last major destination. Killing him would cause huge damage to the entire Waaagh. I might just have to settle for a mere wounding strike.  
  
"Carry on, Captain. I have some maps to look over," I tell him. He nods as I walk to my quarters.  
  
I'm only mildly surprised to find an unmarked manila envelope in my room. I'd gotten one as soon as I first saw my quarters with full dossiers on all of the officers aboard ship. This time it was a pack of intercepted intelligence reports about three major Warbosses on Magdelene IX. The information not only included their bases and force strength, but also their personality profiles, hobbies, where they spent their time and what their usual day was like. Not that the reports were built towards that, rather that was what the compiler was clearly interested in. Clearly I had an Assassinorum agent feeding me intel. I'd very dearly love to know whom they are.  
  
While they were far too valuable to kill, I'd rather keep a close eye on anyone quite so dangerous.  
  
A/N: My appearance is now mostly fixed. I have no plans for taking upgrades that would alter it. So as long as I strip in private, to hide the neural 'nipples' on my back, there isn't a whole lot of danger of discovery and even those can be explained by the back-story I've made for myself. As to Gina Carano, as she is in most pictures I could find she wasn't quite built enough in the shoulders for Inquisitor Pardi, but then I found [this](http://actionmoviefreak.com/images/american-gladiators-gina-carano.jpg) one which is an almost perfect likeness except a few facial features and hair length.


End file.
